


All for one, one for all

by Kono_Rohan_Da



Series: Captain Squad [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi is too smart for everyone, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, And they were roomates. . ., Bigotry & Prejudice, Bokuto Koutarou is a Genius, Boys Being Boys, But with friendship, CAPTAIN SQUAD, Childhood Trauma, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship Is The Best Ship, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insomnia, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past minor character death, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon, Professor Tsukishima Akiteru, Protective Ushijima Wakatoshi, Slow Burn, Team Bonding, Team Dad Sawamura Daichi, Team as Family, Texting, Ushijima has no sense of direction the poor guy, Volleyball, volleyball dorks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 120,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kono_Rohan_Da/pseuds/Kono_Rohan_Da
Summary: After graduation, Sawamura Daichi doesn't really know what to do. Out of all the Karasuno Volleyball Club third-years, he's the only one to leave the area for college, and that to Tokyo of all places.Having accepted that his life is probably be pretty lonely from now onward, he doesn't expect to have not one, not two, butfourroommates who just so happen to be the captains of formal rival volleyball teams. And it turns out that besides helping each other with their loneliness, volleyball, and school, there are more things that bring the five unlikely friends closer together.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou & Oikawa Tooru & Sawamura Daichi & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Bokuto Koutarou & Oikawa Tooru, Bokuto Koutarou & Sawamura Daichi, Bokuto Koutarou & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Hinata Shouyou & Sawamura Daichi, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou & Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou & Sawamura Daichi, Kuroo Tetsurou & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sakusa Kiyoomi & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sawamura Daichi & Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi & Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori & Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: Captain Squad [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918720
Comments: 320
Kudos: 575





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first _Haikyuu!!_ fic! I hope all of you guys like this. Characterization might be a bit off and I'm just going to go ahead and screw canon a few times. I'm only on season 2 of the anime and I pretty much have no intention of reading the manga or spoiling anything for myself, since I’m addicted to the anime. So. . .here you go! The only thing that helps me with everyone's characterization is what I already know and what I've read in other fanfics.

**Chapter 1**

It was the day after graduation. Graduation day, it had been fun. It was filled with tears, yes, and Daichi had been koala-hug-attacked by Hinata and Nishinoya at the same time, but. . .it was nice. To have this, to himself, one last time. And the day before graduation, it might of been even better than graduation day itself. With the whole team together, playing six-on-six matches, constantly switching out, trying out new moves and imitating Nishinoya by giving every hit a ridiculous name.

It might be the last time for a while that the whole team and the former third-years would be able to meet up. They sit at a large, round table. Daichi smiles, picking at his noodles and fishing out a piece of chicken, popping it in his mouth and chewing on it. He wants to forget the letter he got. The excitement he felt but then the dread when he remembered Suga and Asahi’s texts. The happiness on his mom’s face. The pity in her eyes when she saw the heartbreak in her son’s eyes. 

He’s sitting between Suga and Kiyoko, Asahi sitting between Suga and Nishinoya, the latter chattering the Ace’s ear off with Tanaka putting in some words ever now and then. To his right, he sees Kiyoko smiling at Yachi’s exciting chatter. On the other side of the table, the first years are having a heated conversation. Their volume is slowly increasing and Daichi feels himself smiling as he chews on a mouthful of noodles. He’s probably the only one who hasn’t talked with anyone in a while. Thus, the only one who’s actually eating his food. He’s trying to be happy, of course he is! But he can’t help but allow the sadness to slowly trickle into his mind, and with it comes a soft smile. 

Who knows what he’s going to do without all of them, his family. They’re all happy together, and their going to stay together. But. . .he’s going to be alone. 

“Hey hey!” Hinata exclaims, as he dugs out of a patented Kagyyama headlock. “Where are all of you guys going for college? Are you going to college? Are you staying? Are you going to play volleyball? TELL US!”

Daichi’s head snaps up and he nearly chokes on his noodles. He wanted to tell everyone in private. . .well, not private. He was just going to text Asahi, Kiyoko, and Suga on the first day of university when they’d spam him as to why they can’t spy him. 

When the other three third-years were texting on the groupchat, they thought Daichi was asleep, and they made jokes, often starting with the line “When Daichi wakes up and sees this”. They thought he was trying to do something dramatic, like say how he’s getting a job along with going to Uni, or that he’s majoring in something lame, or that he’s not even going to college at all and instead heading to a technical school. 

He sees Suga and Asahi look at eachother and he doesn’t miss the look Asahi sends to Kiyoko to his right. The girl nods. The rest of the table has gone silent, curious looks on their faces. Daichi takes a sip of his water. Yes, he ordered water. Everyone else ordered some sort of soda. He couldn’t stop his stomach from turning at any word that could turn into another that would turn into a question and then the conversation he was currently now in. His grip tightens on the cup.

“Well, Asahi, Kiyoko, and myself” Suga says “We’re all going to the same university!” Everyone claps. The local university, even though it’s not in a big city, has some very good programs. It also has a very good volleyball team which plays around Japan. And there’s also the fact that it’s quite selective. 

“What are you majoring in?” Coach Ukai asks. 

“I’m going to be working on my pre-med” Suga boasts, leaning back in his seat to take in the praise. 

“Sports business managing” Kiyoko manages and Tanaka melts in his seat at the girl’s soft voice, hearts shining in his eyes. 

“Physical therapy” Asahi says and then he’s heavily thumped on the back by a grinnin, crying Nishinoya. 

“MY MAN! YOU’VE GROWN SO MUCH~” the libero wails, clutching at the taller man’s arm. Asahi chuckles and pats Nishinoya on the head. 

“I’m fine Noya” he says. 

“Ooh, ooh!” Suga exclaims. “Volleyball! Let’s tell them about volleyball!” Suga leans forward in his seat, his elbow lightly brushing against Daichi’s arm, eyes focused on the rest of the group.  _ Volleyball  _ his mind supplies.  _ I think they’re going to try out for their volleyball team. And if that happens _ . . .

“Both Asahi and I are going to be trying out for the school volleyball team.” Asahi nods in agreement, taking a sip of his soda. 

“And Kageyama” Daichi notes that Asahi doesn’t use any honorifics- when did they get close? “Made my view towards volleyball clear. Although I’m going to get a major, I’m aiming to play on the national team.” There’s only a second or two of silence. Daichi knows it’s not out of disbelief but pride. Pride and something else, something that can’t really be described. 

Then the whole table explodes. 

They congratulate Asahi and Hinata is busy attacking Kageyama with words about how he really does care for his teammates.

Conversation is just about to return to normal when Takeda-sensei’s eyes meet Daichi’s, warm brown orbs widening and curiosity painting itself across the teacher’s face. 

“What about you, Sawamura?” And with that, all of the attention is on him. He can feel Suga’s smiles and warm gaze burning on him, he can see the first years curious gaze. And he catches Tsukishima’s gaze and that boy is so perceptive and observant and smart and he really  _ has  _ grown better. And there’s concern and pity in his eyes, barely identifiable on his neutral face. But there’s a reason Daichi was captain for two years, the burden placed on his shoulders when he was merely a second year and they had no third years playing that year. 

He and Suga, they promised to stay together. They’re best friends, brothers. And he’s also close to Asahi and even though they don’t really show it, Kiyoko is like a sister to him. He’s picked up each of the three’s little habits, such as how when Asahi’s feeling lazy he’ll put his hair in a ponytail rather than a bun, that Suga does this really weird thing with his face when he thinks of something funny, that Kiyoko’s nose twitches the number of sneezes that are about to come out. 

And all three of them are going to be together. 

“I don’t know my major yet” Daichi manages. Suga thumps him on the back. 

“So you  _ are _ going to college! Maybe we can walk to the same department together!”

“Suga”

“But only until you finally decide your major”

“ _ Suga _ ”

“Imagine! The three of us on the same court aga-”

“ _ I’m not going to the local university _ ” Daichi says and he doesn’t stop now because god knows he won’t be able to fight the awkwardness. It doesn’t stop the pain, though. He knows it’s not really his fault, no. He had accepted the scholarship because it would of saved so much money and it offered more opportunities. But it doesn’t make the pain easier to bear. 

“I got a sports scholarship in Tokyo. I’ll be playing for their team. I already accepted and my train leaves tomorrow afternoon.” He looks down at his food, chopsticks still held in one hand. He gently lets go of them, soundlessly placing them to rest against the side of the bowl. 

“Oh” Suga says. “That’s why you didn’t say anything.” He wants Suga to be angry, not  _ understanding _ . Daichi nods. 

“That’s. . . awesome” Kageyama manages and Daichi smiles at the boy. The word left his tongue so awkwardly, Daichi wonders when the last time was that he ever said that. “Their team is good! C-c-congratulation on, uh, getting in.” He manages, voice reduced to a mumble at the end. Honestly, it was adorable. 

These are his children. And even though he feels bad about leaving, he’ll be able to take a train here every now and then, or maybe if they have training camps in Tokyo, he can drop by. The thought comes to him that maybe he can convince the university team to host a training camp. 

“I will also be expecting to see you there” Kageyama declares and Daichi looks at him. “If I don’t make it immediately to the national team, I will be striving to go to the same university as you. So I hope to play on the same team as you again in three years.” Daichi smiles. 

“Thank you.” He says. Kagayama quickly tilts his head down but he catches a hint of blush and he lets out a laugh. 

“I still can’t believe  _ this  _ is why you went radio silent” Suga scoffs. Daichi shrugs and pops a snappea into his mouth. He feels lighter now. “But you better call. You’re going to be lonely.” Daichi nods. 

“That was, um, the main reason” he sighs. “I only had two more days, and I didn’t want my personal problems to ruin it.” 

“You will be fine” Kiyoko offers, eyes twinkling. “You’ll enjoy your time there. Don’t let the sadness hinder you.” And then she goes back to eating. 

“You heard her” Suga says. “Just forget about all your woos and concerns. Just enjoy yourself for one more day. Let’s start with getting you something other than boring old water” he waves over the waited and Daichi can’t help the groan and then the smile that comes out of him. 

He guesses it’s better that it’s just him leaving rather than all four of them. Suga will probably visit Karasuno quite often, dragging the other two with him. He can already imagine the bonds that’ll form and strengthen between the three and the ones that will snap between him and them. 

His soda comes and he takes a large swig before joining into the game of Never Have I Ever that Noya started. 

* * *

The next day, Daichi is on his way to Tokyo. He has his volleyball bag slung over his shoulder, his Karasuno shirt neatly folded in it and placed in a gallon ziploc bag for protection, as well as a volleyball with all of his teammates signatures on it. He has one large suitcase with his clothes and shoes and his mom and shipped the few other things he thought he’d need for dorm-life yesterday night. 

The drive to the station was filled with chatter. Asahi had volunteered to drive him, picking up Suga along the way. At the station, he found the rest of the team there. And it felt just like yesterday, all of them talking and crying and laughing together. It was all so very bittersweet. 

And when his train finally came, he poked half his body out the window just so that he could wave them goodbye and then high-five Hinata and Noya numerous times as they ran next to the train, all the way to the end of the platform, the two naturally fast enough to keep up.

He nearly cried when he saw the black figures growing smaller and smaller never moves except for waving limbs as he continues to wave back. They never left. And his guess is that they only moves to leave when the train took a turn, moving out of sight. 

His phone pings and he slides back into the car, his midsection hurting from the pressure. He closes the window and rubs at the sore area, unlocking his phone and going to the messaging system, checking his texts. It was a photo, sent on the groupchat with the whole team on it. A picture of Daichi leaning out the train, Hinata jumping and high-fiving him with Noya at his tail. 

The photo is saved in a new album. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi arrives in Tokyo

For the entirety of the train ride, Daichi sat there with his head resting against the window, head tilted at an angle so that he could look at his phone in his lap. He doesn’t think there has ever been a day when he’s gotten  _ this  _ many texts. Every minute or so he would feel it vibrate and it reached a point where he had to take out his portable charger just so that it doesn’t die on him in the middle of a heated up text argument with Suga. 

Apparently he left behind the embarrassing underwear his best friend got him for his sixteenth birthday, abandoned in a drawer which Suga apparently raided after he left. He was eventually forced by Asahi to send his new dorm room’s address. And not just to the “1-2-3-Manager” group chat, but the  _ whole team  _ group chat. 

He doesn’t know what to expect in his next year. Will they randomly appear at his measly one-room dorm, crashing the place and filing in so that everyone is standing chest to chest just to talk? Will he be getting embarrassing present? Dear god, will they bring the blackmail album? 

The first surprise comes when he’s half an hour away from Tokyo. He looks out the window and his phone hasn’t vibrated for a while. Perhaps they got tired. He watches his breath fog up the glass, smiling at the trees and buildings that flit past his view. He can already see the skyscrapers in the distance and he’s happy that the university isn’t located at the heart of the capital, but on the border. A few kilometers closer to home, a location which isn’t too crowded due to being an area dedicated to research and academics, bordered by farms and a shopping complex and restaurants. A relatively nice place, he admits. But the surprise comes in the shape of a phone call.

Texts were the only thing he’d been getting. Why a phone call? (not that he doesn’t want it or anything. . .)

“Hello?” He says, not bothering to check the number. It would of been smarter if he did- then he’d of remembered to lower the volume or hold the speaker further from his ear. 

“SAWAMURA-SAN!” Hinata yells into his ear and he hears squabbling in the background and some shouting. He pulls the phone away before tentatively bringing it closer. 

“Hinata, there’s no need for honorifics” he sighs with a smile on his face. “And I told you to call me Daichi now.” There’s a mumbled apology on the other end and he relaxes in his seat, the cool of the window no more once he sits straight. “What is it?” 

He hears mumbled G-rated curses on the other end, which makes him chuckle, and then he realizes by the increase of sound that the phone’s on speaker mode. 

“We did some research on your address!” Noya’s voice comes. 

“They were really creepy about it too” Tsukishima says and Daichi is honestly surprised that the level-headed blond is there. And then it hits him. He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. 

“You guys did research” he sighs “on my future  _ home _ ?”

“That’s what you get for going to Tokyo!” Tanaka shouts and there’s a muffled high-five which feels like needles to his ears. That’s not a good sound over the phones. 

“And what did you find out that was worth calling me for?” There’s some silence on the other end. “It can’t be any worse than you guys being able to come visit me  _ any time you want _ and crowing yourselves in my room. . .right?” The silence just starts to scare him even more. 

And then there’s the laughter. 

“Your room will be able to hold all of us!” He can practically see Suga jumping up and down, probably while jabbing poor Asahi in the side. Those two and Kiyoko will probably get to enjoy a few more weeks of peace before going to university. This is what he gets for choosing to join an athletically and academically rigorous school. 

“Your dorm isn’t actually a dorm but a renovated apartment complex” and he never thought he’d ever see- er, hear the day that Asahi would ever manage to sound crafty, but here he is. “Noya found a news article made by your university. It includes a virtual map too! Yours looks like a good size- lots of windows.” 

Of course they’d know all about his dorm before he even got off the train. He knew sending the address would be a bad idea. 

“They’re trying to make bets on how many roommates you’ll have” Suga tutts like one mother complaining about their children to another. He lets himself cross a leg over the other, relaxing even more in his seat, looking at the informative screen at the front of the car.He settles himself to hear about pretty girls and trends, as well as presents they want and promises to keep in contact. He’s also teasing the possibility that if someone other than Hinata ends the call, then the orange-haired teen’s phone will be kidnapped. By the time the excitable chatter has died down, he has two minutes left until he’ll step foot in Tokyo for the first time since the tournament and the training camp. 

It brings back memories, both welcome and unwelcome. 

“Hey, I have to go.” Daichi says as he looks out the window and he can see the station approaching. “I probably won’t be able to text or call much today, tomorrow, or even this week, so don’t expect much out of me.” The train slowly rolls to a stop while he hears everyone shout their goodbye’s. 

He loves his team and he misses them so much. Everytime they say goodbye, it breaks his heart. Because he can’t help but think that maybe in a few weeks or months, they’ll forget about him. Once the school year starts back home, he’ll just be their former captain and teammate. 

The call ends with Hinata screeching in the background, along with Tanaka and Noya as if the three were having a competition to see who could destroy Daichi’s eardrum first. He pockets the device and he gets up, grabbing his bag and suitcase from the overhead compartment. 

The world seems to freeze flow down, step by step. This is his first step into a new world, into a new set of memories.

When his foot hits the platform, he just stares at the ground. He has to force himself to move. The journey is a blue. He has one hand curled around the handle of his suitcase, rolling it behind him, the other gripping onto the strap of his bag which stretches diagonally across his chest. 

Tears gather at his eyes but he stops them from falling. Because now, right now, he feels happy. He looks up at the sky, grinning at the stretch of blue which is a bit more dull than the sky back home. He can see some wispy clouds, the ones that he and Suga loved to compare to Asahi’s goatee when he got his first wispy hairs back in their third year of middle school. 

“Hello Tokyo” he whispers, not thinking it for the first time out of less than a dozen. 

It’s easy enough to hail a taxi: they’re loitered all around the train station. He nearly got lost in the crowd of people now that he isn’t surrounded by a murder of black, nestled between a shorter silver haired teen obsessed with physically rough love and a tall brunette with a heart of glass and a soul made of marshmallows, sunshine, and rainbows. So you can’t blame him for being just a bit flustered and overwhelmed. He really is a country boy, unused to the grandeur of the city. 

He can hear the cheers of a jam-packed stadium in his ears, he can feel the light shine on him and the feeling of euphoria as he walks onto the perfect, polished court, leading his team, his family, with the shimmering lights of camera shutters snapping and videos recording and speakers blaring. 

“So where to?” The driver asks when he sits down, syllables sharper around the edges than what he’s used to back home. 

“Uh, here.” Daichi pulls the paper which he wrote the address on out of his pocket, showing it the driver as he leans forward in his seat. The man laughs, stoking his beard. 

“Not from around here?”

“No, sir.” The man harrumphs and turns on the radio, right to the news channel. Daichi relaxes in his seat and he entertains himself with looking out the window as the car starts up and the driver pulls the vehicle onto the road. 

How’s he going to deal with this?

Somehow, Daichi is a stranger to loneliness. He always had his mom, even though it wasn’t as much as a normal parent due to how much she had to work. Childhood was filled with friends and new discoveries, being an easygoing child who also helped the volunteers out and made them coo at him. And then when he started playing volleyball, it was rare for him to have even an hour (outside of sleep) of radio silence. 

Everytime he came to Tokyo, it was with someone. His mom took him once when he was little for fun and another time for when they had to go to the airport for their one week vacation to Switzerland. And then with volleyball, he was always with the team. 

Even with the radio on, it’s still quiet. 

Tokyo is such a huge city. The University will be filled with students dedicated to whatever they’re in the school for. Heck, Daichi’s willing to bet that he’s one of the five people or something who don’t know what they’re going to be majoring in. And it’s a prestigious school- there’s no way he could of afforded this place if he wasn’t offered a scholarship. He hadn’t even  _ considered _ this place! 

But here he is. In a taxi. On his way to the dorm which used to be an apartment which is fully payed for by his scholarship. The only thing coming out of his own pocket will be personal stuff, like cell phone bills and food. 

_ What will be even luckier, _ he muses,  _ is if I somehow know someone who goes here _ . So he entertains himself by making a mental inventory of everyone he’s ever met and become a little more than acquainted with, somewhere in the lower end of the acquaintance-to-friend range.

“Here’s your stop. Don’t worry about paying, kid. My daughter goes to school to Europe and first day there she phoned back sounding so scared. It’s the least I can do.” Daichi stutters out a thanks, taking his stuff out. The wind ruffles his hair and the taxi leaves, leaving Daichi standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He’s a rock in the middle of a stream, people walking by him, talking and not talking, smiling and not showing any emotion, moving the flow of the crowd around him as he stares up at the dorm. 

_ So what had the letter said?  _ He doesn’t feel like opening up his suitcase until he goes into his dorm.  _ I go to the front desk, I give my name and ID card. I get a key. Put my stuff in my room. And then tomorrow I have the orientation at ten in the morning.  _

And this is why he misses Kiyoko: she does all of this fancy legal stuff and everything. 

The text ten minutes are kind of a blur. He successfully manages to make his way into the building. It’s twelve floors tall, painted white with tinted windows. He feels slightly intimidated by the building. 

The attendant is friendly enough and Daichi gets his key: Room 404. The building itself isn’t too big. The attendant had been very enthusiastic, reminding Daichi of a toned down version of Hinata, speaking with a passion, giving him more information than he’ll ever need to know about the complex but it’s helpful, none the less. 

Each floor has four residential apartments, three of which were converted into dorm rooms and the fourth converted into an open space with two public computers for studying, washing machine and dryers, and a row of vending machines. The first two dorms are small, with two bedrooms, one bath, and a living area with a kitchen. The third one has  _ three  _ bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, and it used to have two bathrooms but the second one was apparently destroyed and turned into a storage room. The attendant says that she overheard the bathroom discussion when the plans were being made and they didn’t want to spend more money on water with two bathrooms. 

So. . .three bedrooms. Daichi’s eye twitches. How many roommates is he going to have? Having a room to himself seems too good to be true. He trudges to the elevator, pressing the button for the fourth floor. Orchestral music starts playing as the doors close. 

The more logical option is two people per room. So six people total. Daichi shudders. He ‘s looked at the apartments from the outside and they definitely don’t look big. It’s going to be crowded for sure. He tries to imagine himself living with Kiyoko, Asahi, Suga, Enoshita, and Noya. He shudders. And then he replaces the image with himself living with Suga (for mental support), Noya, Tanaka, Kageyama, and Hinata. Torture. Pure, utter, torture. 

He just hopes that his roommates will be like him. 

The elevator pings open and he entertains the thought even more as he drags his suitcase down the hall, curling his pinkie finger around the ring that his key hangs from. Maybe his roomates will be like him! Interested in sports, maybe one of them also playing volleyball, even if it’s just recreational. All of them can be friendly enough and sharing interests with him. Mentally sane people. 

The door looks too innocent. Rich and brown, polished with the number 404 on the wall next to it with slots where he and his roommates will be putting in slips of paper with their names on it. Right outside of the door are boxes with names on them, and he spots one of them with his name on it but he doesn’t see the names on the other boxes. He’ll take those in later. He also notices, with interest, that there’s already two pieces of paper in it. And both names are written in bright colored ink - one in red, the other in gold - the glare of the plastic at the moment making it painful to even look at. 

Maneuvering the key into the lock, he takes a few breathes. He’ll be fine, it’ll be okay. He leaves the key in the lock just so that he can adjust the loose t-shirt he wears, licking his chapped lips one last time before turning the key. 

The  _ click  _ is loud in the empty hall. 

He turns the knob, putting the key back in his pocket and holding onto the strap of his duffle bag. He hears two people talking. Closing the door with his foot, he leaves the suitcase by the door where he sees two suitcases, one larger than his and the other the same size, as well as two other duffle bags. Do they also play a sport?

“Um, hi?” He tries when he walks past less than a meter of wall and turns to his left, staring straight into the living room. Sitting there on each of the two couches are two of his future who-knows-how-many roommates, the two pausing their conversations to stare right at him. 

Daichi wills himself to blink. But he can’t. Because if  _ these  _ are going to be his roommates. . .

Hazel eyes widen, black fringe brushed aside in disbelief. Both of his new roommates jaws drop. 

  
“SAWA _ MURA _ !?” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the roommates

“SAWA _ MURA _ !?” Kuroo exclaims and it’s so  _ weird  _ seeing him outside of volleyball, somehow wearing his red volleyball club jacket even in the hot and humid summer. On the other couch is none other than the former ace of Fukurodani, Bokuto Koutaro, owlishly blinking at him with his large golden eyes. They just stare at each other. 

His eyes finally decide that it’s a good time to blink. 

“Kuroo? And Bokuto!?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, groaning. This. . .This is going to be strange. Strange and possibly terrifying and distracting and he doesn’t know what else. It’s like it can get any worse than this. Wait. It’ll get worse if he tells Suga about this. Then he’ll drag Tsukishima with him so that Bokuto and Kuroo can reunite with their kouhai. 

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto exclaims and now Daichi can’t help but smile. There’s just something about him that radiates energy. Reminds him of Suga. The spiker jumps over the back of the couch and he envelops Daichi in a hug, faster than he expected him. Like a taller, stronger, paler-haired Hinata. He’s surprisingly warm. And it’s usually Daichi giving out the hugs and the recipients are usually shorter than him so it’s weird being hugged like this and it really just hits him that he’s shorter than these two. 

Oh joy. 

“The captain squad unites!” Kuroo exclaims, getting up and stretching like a cat. “Wow, this is perfect!” He struts over, patting Daichi on the head with a lopsided grin spread across his face. And then the pat turns into something a bit more painful than a one-handed head massage. 

After a bit, Daichi gets a bit too warm, sandwiched between Bokuto and Kuroo, and he manages to squirm out of their hold, face turned red. 

“Does the kitchen have anything?” He asks, quickly heading over to the adjacent room possibly to put some distance between the three, the only divider between the two rooms being a bar area. 

“Nah, but the fridge has an icemaker and the smaller tap is filtered.” Daichi hums and he manages to find a stack of disposable plastic cups, putting some ice in it before filling it with water, returning to the living room while sipping on the heavenly substance. 

“Is it just the three of us?” He settles on the couch, right on the opposite side of Bokuto. “The attendant said there’s three rooms.” Kuroo looks at the cup in Daichi’s hand with a dangerous look in his eyes. 

“Have you seen the boxes?” The man lazily say, adjusting his fringe. “I don’t use metallic teal ducktape.” Metallic teal ducktape. How interesting. “But for  _ now _ , it’s just the three of us! So why are all of you here because no offense, country bumpkin,  _ how  _ are you here?” 

The cup only has ice in it. He reluctantly puts the cup on the coffee table. There’s a strange feeling he gets, just by looking at the coffee table. He can kind of imagine having chaotic study groups at the thing. From what he’s seen and heard about the two, he can see sheets of papers being turned into paper airplanes or becoming victims to origami competitions. 

“Volleyball scholarship.” He sighs. “The rest of the third-years on my team are going to the local university. They’re also planning on playing.”

Bokuto lets out a whistle, pity in his eyes. “Dang. That’s rough. At least I got Aakashi here but he’s way over in the literature department.” He leans forward in his seat. “But you know what?” His grin becomes wider and he points his thumbs towards himself . “ _ I  _ also got a volleyball scholarship!”

“Oi, so did I.” Kuroo grumbles. “Full ride, as long as I keep on playing! How does  _ that  _ sound.” 

“You’re boasting that you got the same scholarship as me.” Daichi drawls. The things he learns from having had Tsukishima on his team. 

Kuroo nods. “Exactly! Kenma keeps on telling me that I’m not smart but I obviously  _ am  _ because here I am.”

The three of them talk for a few more minutes, mainly about planning about what they’re going to do with their new apartment/dorm. There’s the question of  _ chores _ . The fridge is empty and is cheaper to buy groceries and take turns cooking, but that has to be settled when the rest of their roommates come. 

“What are you majoring in?” Kuroo asks Daichi. “With someone with thighs as thick as yours and being smart” Daichi blushes as that “Must be something interesting, right?” 

Daichi shrugs. “I don’t know what I’m majoring in. I don’t know why I’m even here.” His voice is honest and why is he even telling them this? “It’s not that I’m  _ that  _ good at academics, and by no means was I the best on my team.” Bokuto quickly scooches over on the couch, slinging an arm around Daichi’s shoulders. 

“Dude, you’re  _ awesome  _ on the court!” Daichi moves his head and stares at the owlish boy. “I mean, you’re not that flashy but the thing is you’re solid. I saw the videos of nationals. You’re almost like a second libero on the court and it’s only the scouts who know why they decided to get you on this team.”

“Thanks.” He mutters, feelings better. Bokuto pats his shoulder. Even with Bokuto’s personality, there’s no questioning how he’s here. He was ranked fourth for the top aces in the country. Even if he wasn’t going to be an ace on their new team, he’s still going to be a very valuable player. And Kuroo is cunning on the court, able to read plays so easily. 

“And, hey, look at Kuroo! Pretty sure the only reason he’s here is ‘cause he lives in the Tokyo area. That must make you feel better!” Kuroo rolls his eyes. 

“Scholarship, Bo. Scholarship. Anyway, I actually _am_ a smart guy, if I don’t say so myself.”

“Cool.” Bokuto slips his arm from Daichi’s shoulders. It was getting kind of heavy. “But, what are you going to do with the scholarship? I’m going to study electrical engineering ‘cause I can make things go BOOM but with lightning!” He blushes a bit. “And, like, Akaashi told me I’m really good at math. So. . .” Daichi internally chuckles at the boy’s blush. 

“Hey, that’s great!” Kuroo claps his hands together. “I already have an idea of what I’m going to major in. Kenma gave me the idea and it seemed interesting enough.” A predatory look flashes in his eyes, his face settling into something serious. 

“Pre-Law.” 

Bokuto and Daichi look at each other before looking at Kuroo and exploding into laughter. Kuroo pouts, his hands falling, only looking mildly offended. 

“What? I’m being serious here?”

Daichi clutches at his stomach with one arm, eyes squeezed shut from the force of the laugh. “P-p- _ pre law _ ” he and Bokuto say at the same time before laughing even more. “Gods, Kuroo. A  _ lawyer _ . You want to be a lawyer?”

“Well, the arguments will be fun” Kuroo tries to defend “But it’s mainly a fall-back, yah know. I want to play on the  _ national team _ .”

“So do the rest of us” Bokuto laughs. Kuroo rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah ‘hey hey hey’!” he says, trying to mimic the silver haired teen “Imma hey hey hey us all the way to global champion!” Bokuto lets out a snort and he quickly adjusts his hair to mimic Kuroo’s.

“Hey guys, I’m a lawyer who’s only a lawyer because of my gamer friend and I order you to loose!” 

Daichi can’t hold in the laughter anymore. What is this loss of control? These two are like Tanaka and Noya all over again, but they also aren’t. Maybe it’s the realization that he’s going to go insane sometime in the next year if he’s going to be in the same living space as these two. 

He finds himself fallen onto the ground on his knees, doubled over in laughter. And the other two are in the same condition. 

_ “Daichi” he remembers Suga saying one day. It’s the middle of their seconds year, the younger holding a play book in his hand, making mental notes of which ones they’ll be able to do at practice tomorrow.  _

_ “What is it Suga?” _

_ “You need to smile more.” Daichi stopped in his tracks, looking at the silver haired teen. He raised an eyebrow.  _

_ “What? I smile enough” he said with a frown. Suga smiled apologetically at him.  _

_ “I told you you shouldn’t of become captain.” _

_ “I’ll grow into it.” _

_ “I haven’t seen you laugh in so long” he says. “And the chances just decreased once Tanaka met Kiyoko. Any other time and you would of laughed at a first year pining over a second year.” Daichi huffed.  _

_“I laugh enough. Don’t worry about me, Suga. I just need to get used to this.”_ _This being a world where he wouldn’t have the freedom to laugh or smile as much as he wants to because he’s the captain. And if he didn’t maintain order, then who would?_

“What’s the laughter about? I wanna join in!”

“Kuroo w-wants to be a  _ l-lawyer _ !” Bokuta cries before freezing. The whole room freezes, like someone suddenly took a record off of the turn table. 

“Oh hell no” Kuroo groans. “Please, world” he begs, pressing his head against the ground. Because Kuroo is suddenly in a state of devastation and Bokuto is too busy staring and Daichi is basically the only one who actually knows things about Roommate No. 3, he takes it upon himself to get up and walk to the door, the pain in his knees from falling from the couch onto the floor quickly disappearing. 

“Oikawa” he says with a smile on his face because the last time he saw the setter, the look on his face had been haunting. The sense of loss, the dilated size of his pupils, the slight tremors in his hands which had gone red from the force of his serves. But he has said “hi” to the guy a few times and it’s not like he’s  _ bad _ . He just. . .doesn’t really know him like he knows Kuroo and Bokuto, all three of them having been at the same summer training camp and all. 

“Ah, Dai-chan~!” Oikawa coos, carelessly tossing a white duffle bag on the pile of three bags which have slowly started gathering, pushing his suitcase to the side. He jumps at Daichi, enveloping him in a hug, arms tightly wrapping around his torso. He lifts the former captain off of the ground. “You’re perfect for hugging! Like a big teddy bear.” He nestles his cheek into Daichi’s hair and he can’t stop the blush from spreading across his face while he lets the setter hug the life out of him. 

“G-good to see you. . .too” he manages, gasping in a breath so that he can talk, patting the other guy’s arm just to have him put him down. Bokuto and Kuroo laugh from the couch and Daichi’s face has positively turned bright red. 

“Hey hey hey! Welcome to the Former Captains Club, man! If you can make Sawamura blush like that, we’re going to get along awesomely!” Oikawa heads over to Bokuto and the two high-five. Daichi wonders if the two have met before. 

Kuroo shakes Oikawa’s hand and everyone’s acting pleasant. Maybe it’s the fact that the four of them are all along, just about. A new place (except for Kuroo) where they don’t really know anyone or anything. They’ll have to deal each other for a few years, if they don’t kill each other or the officials end up switching up their rooms because of the recus they might end up making due their clashing differences and similarities. 

“So” Oikawa flops onto a couch, somehow managing to look like a model, dressed in a light blue shirt with a thin white jacket and brand name shades pushed onto the top of his head. “Fukurodani, Karasuno, Nekoma, Aoba Johsai. Miss Helpful at the front said we have three rooms but three rooms for four people doesn’t quite seem fair and I saw five nameslots.”

So four roommates. Of which three of them, so far, can’t really be counted as responsible. It seems like the saying “Once a captain, always a captain” is only applying to Daichi. Maybe Oikawa might be a bit responsible as well. Or more mature than the other two. 

“Yeah. We’re all so lucky!” Bokuto exclaims. “I mean, four captains? We’re going to have a  _ blast _ !” 

“I noticed the bags by the door.” Oikawa hesitates. “Do all three of you happen to be here thanks to a certain scholarship?”  _ Volleyball  _ is the only word that’s left unsaid. Also one of the two words that are pretty much the only thing they have in common. 

“That means all of us are on the same team” Kuroo smirks. “We’ll have to” he dramatically tosses his hair “ _ get along _ .”

“And the worst part is that all of us won’t get to be captains” Bokuto lamments. “It’s going to be hard having to follow someone elses orders.” He perks up almost immediately after. “ _ But _ , it’s the four of us! They have four ex-captains who just so happen to know each other. And then stuck them in the same room. Coincidence?” He points a finger into the air, hopping onto his feet and striking a pose. “I think not!”

“So if this pattern somehow continues” Daichi thinks out loud. “ _ Somehow _ . Then our fifth member will also be a former volleyball team captain who the four of us happen to know?” He hesitates at the end of the sentence, mentally cataloguing the few other captains he knows.

“So who’s out fifth roommate?”

“I am.” 

In some part of Daichi’s mind, he feels like crying. The room’s atmosphere suddenly goes cold. Maybe he shouldn’t of accepted the scholarship. Or was it just saying his thoughts out loud that did it? One thing he knows for sure is that he feels like going to the farthest room in the apartment, drawing the curtains (or it’ll be even better if it  _ doesn’t have windows _ ), curling up in a ball in a corner and calling Suga to cry about how all of his good karma decided to spend all of itself by getting Daichi here but all the bad karma tagged along to give him  _ these four  _ as roommates. 

Oikawa had left the door open, had forgotten to close it, explaining why they didn’t hear him come in. 

Oikawa stands like a man who has just been called from the bench to be returned to the court as their newest member closes the door behind him with a gentle, finalizing  _ click _ . Daichi briefly remembers that they have boxes with their stuff out there. 

“Ushijima” he says, raising his head and looking at the Japan national nineteen-and-under youth team player from down the bridge of his nose, arms crossed in front of him. Ushijima just blinks at him. 

“Oikawa.”

Does he always have to be the responsible one? Could everyone just  _ tell  _ how he was like way back in second year? Is that why he was pushed into what could just be called adulthood way too early in his life? 

“Hello” Daichi politely says, pushing past Oikawa to break apart the silent death-stare match. Ushijima looks vaguely surprised and pleased even? It still unnerves him that he’s the shortest one here. He’s a relatively tall guy- above average. But he’s still the shortest one here. Daichi holds a hand out. “Sawamura Daichi.”  _ Key rule of getting along with new people- appeal to similarities. _ “Looks like you also got the luck of having these three living with you for who knows how long.” Just a pinch of sarcasm. Nice. 

Ushijima blinks and there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. He takes Daichi’s hand, shaking it. It feels the same as it did during the match. 

“Sawamura” he says, deep and seemingly monotonous voice betraying no emotion to anyone else but Daichi, oh ho- he can pick up the small things from having teammates whose tones barely shift, such as Tsukishima and Hinata, so he should pretty much be registered as a vocal empath. He can tell that the guy isn’t upset or anything. “I am pleased that you are here as well. You have previously earned my respect and you are a tolerable and honest person. I will enjoy your company.”

“You’ll also have to get used to the rest of us!” Bokuto laughs. “Welcome to the Former Captains Club and the Association of Volleyball Scholarship Recipients.” Ushijima’s eyes widen by a fraction of a hair’s width. 

“All of you came here due to the scholarship?” Ushijima actually sounds shocked.  _ He knows things _ . He sets his duffle bag- white just like Oikawa’s- next to the dogpile. Then he joins the rest of them on the couch, choosing to sit between Daichi and Bokuto rather than Kuroo and Oikawa. 

The four of them position themselves to look right at Ushijima. So it wasn’t just Daichi who was able to sense the miniscule pause in the brunette’s thought process. 

“What do you know of it?” Kuroo says. “We all got a sports scholarship but it probably wasn’t the same one, right? You’re probably on the varsity thing or something while the rest of us are on the jun-”

“You’re all on the varsity team.” Ushijima says. “My aunt is on the board of directors for the sports teams. They created the scholarship because the Junior Varsity students weren’t dedicated enough and the Varsity team was designed to train players for national level teams. This school has the highest percentage of student athletes selected for professional sports teams. But this year, the best members of the varsity volleyball team graduated early and rather than accepting offers to further their sports careers, they pursued careers related to their major and decided to further their education.

“To fill the gap left by the loss of skilled players, the scholarship was created to find players who were naturally skilled, showed dedication both academically and physically, and would be likely to show great amounts of improvement. The scholarship was kept quiet as to not create competition because only there are only five spots.”

“Oh shit” Bokuto mutters, eyes widening, fingers curling and tightening into his palms. Daichi suddenly has a lot more appreciation for the ornate letter that is carefully pressed between two books in his suitcase. 

“So all five of” Ushijima hesitates “ _ us _ , will be playing on the varsity team. That’s why we had to come early. The board of directors will be calling us for an informational meeting concerning our volleyball careers today.” 

That’s just nerve-wrecking. The board of directors. It’s exhilarating and shocking and  _ why  _ did he accept it again? Ah, right- it’s a scholarship. Who says no to a full-ride to a good school which also has one of the best volleyball coaches in the nation?

“Basically, this is a free ride to the national team?” Oikawa gasps, eyes sparkling. Ushijima grimaces. Or the closest thing to a grimace that he can manage. That’s all they need to know. 

Daichi leans back in the couch, tipping his head up. He went from being the captain of his Junior High volleyball club to joining Karusano, then to becoming a captain again in his second-year. He doesn’t have Noya’s speed. He doesn’t have Asahi’s power. He doesn’t have Tsukishima’s height. He doesn’t have Kageyama or Hinata’s genius natural abilities. 

He’s just. . .Sawamura Daichi. 

“The board of directors” he swallows “Will be telling us what they want from us, then?” Ushijima nods. He said his aunt was on it, right? 

Trying to calm himself down a bit, he tries imaging Ushijima’s aunt, a woman who looks exactly like Ushijima except with longer hair and wearing a white and purple dress, the colors of Shiratorizawa. 

“Brilliant” Kuroo breaths. “Out of all the people in the country, they choose  _ us _ ?” He catches Ushijima’s look and waves his hands in front of him. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. ‘S just a lot to take in.”

There’s a few moments of silence only to be broken by Kuroo’s still slightly shocked sounding voice. “Raise your hand if you’re more stressed now?” All of their hands except for Ushijima’s rises. “Raise your hand if you’re willing to put anything we had against each other behind us so that we don’t screw our futures up?” Daichi, Bokuto, and Ushijima raise their hands. Oikawa joins a few moments later after sending a half-hearted glare Ushijima’s way. “Now raise your hand if you guys want to go get some get-to-know-you-and-destress-until-the-meeting icecream on me?” All of them raise their hands and once, even Ushijima. Icecream, the universal food for creating emotional bonds. 

“Wait, what about our stuff?” Bokuto asks as they head to the door. Kuroo waves him off.

“It was there when we got here, it’ll be good when we get back.”

Icecream sounds really good, right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to talk about Daichi and Haikyuu with me:  
> https://discord.gg/ujxmkQ4


	4. Chapter 4

The flavor of icecream one chooses the first time they go for icecream with someone tells a lot about that person. For example, Iwa-chan always had matcha flavored icecream, occasionally pistachio. And the thing is the guy’s favorite color isn’t even green!

But the icecream theory isn’t always true. But it does give some hints as to who someone is. For example, Oikawa knows he himself is quite the exciting person, and that shows with the way he usually chooses a new flavor of icecream, one he’s never had before, when he goes out in groups. 

This is the first time he’s actually had icecream in Tokyo. And it’s probably a good thing that it’s Kuroo who decided to lead the group because he knows the area. And through that, the best icecream places. 

To get to the place itself, they had to walk three minutes to the metro. The compartment wasn’t too crowded and Oikawa was quick to take on of the only two open seats, the other one being filled less than a second later by a cheerful Bokuto. That left Kuroo, Dai-chan, and Ushiwaka (hm~ his name is Wakatoshi. Maybe he can use Iwa-chan’s array of insults like Baka-Kawa against him) to stand. It was funny, seeing Kuroo and Ushijima easily holding onto the hanging hold while Daichi had to extend his arm further. 

Oikawa has an idea why Daichi got the scholarship, as the metro starts moving. He’s seen him on the court and even though he doesn’t stand out immediately, if you really look, you’ll see how much of the team he actually supports with his defensive skills. But why would the board take the risk? It’s a calculated one, and he doubts it won’t succeed. This is Sawamura, probably one of the only few people who he knows who has the same amount of drive as himself. 

Kuroo is trying to make small talk with the other two and it’s surprising to see that they have something to talk about besides volleyball. 

“I haven’t really been on the metro” he hears Daichi muse. “I can probably count the number of times I have on one hand.”

“Then do it.”

“Let’s see. . . .dang it. I’ve been on it seven times.” 

“So eight now.” Ushijima states. “Seven isn’t a very lucky number.”

“Oh ho- superstitious, are we?” 

“I am merely stating a personal opinion, Kuroo-kun.”

“Ushi, there’s no need for honorifics! We’re going to live together now, haha!” Kuroo lightly punches Ushijima in the arm, the brunette slowly raising an eyebrow. But his face does soften a bit, the phase that would happen right before one tries to smile. 

Maybe living with Ushijima won’t be so bothersome. 

They get off at the second stop, Kuroo leading the way. They can hear snippets of conversation around them because it hasn’t been that long since the national tournament. And Karasano had caught a lot of attention and through that, lots of people had found videos of their earlier games that season. Nekoma, Fukurodani, the defeat of Aoba Johsai. And Oikawa himself was a pretty popular guy, even outside of the Miyagi area. Kuroo sends winks left and right, Bokuto waving at a random person who waves back. Oikawa kind of feels like a celebrity. Because the people around them part for the five eighteen year-olds marching down the sidewalk. Daichi is talking to Ushijima about something, Kuroo bounding ahead of them. Bokuto is chattering to Oikawa about something but he can’t really hear him as he’s too busy looking around him. 

Although it’s not as impressive as the main part of the city, this area is impressive nonetheless. It’s beautiful. Even though he’s a country-boy (although not as much as Sawamura), he knows he’ll go to appreciate this part of his life. If he’s going to rise to fame and join a national team, he might as well get used to this. But his heart, he knows even surer, will always belong to the countryside hundreds of kilometers away. 

“Here we are!” 

The icecream selection process is quiet and serious. Oikawa manages to squeeze past the four to the front, quickly flirting with the girl manning the counter before ordering the squid ink icecream. Daichi orders chocolate, Ushiwaka joining him, Bokuto key lime pie, and Kuroo gets vanilla. Oikawa chooses to ignore the number that flashes on the cashier’s display as Kuroo takes his wallet and a punch card out. 

So there  _ was  _ a hidden motive. 

The five of them sit in the back corner. They must make a strange sight. Two boisterous teens, all five of them nicely built, sitting in the back of a parlor whose color scheme is pastel pink while eating out of multi-colored disposable paper cups. 

“So, get to know you.” Kuroo says. “You guys can call me Kuroo and maybe if you call me senpai, I can let you call me by my first name.” Oikawa wrinkles his nose. 

“Ew. No.”

“I am also a middle blocker with fabulous hair and quick wit, so don’t try fooling me with well thought out pranks because I  _ will  _ Uno reverse-card it.” He looks at Bokuto at the last one but the owlish looking teen is too busy munching into his icecream, some of it already melted around the left corner of his mouth. 

“Oikawa, but Tooru-chan also works” and he sends a wink at Daichi. The man blushes and Oikawa already knows he’s going to have so much fun with the guy. They’ll probably become pretty good friends by the end of the month, at most. He calculates he’ll become thick with Bokuto by the end of the week, Kuroo maybe a little bit longer. It’ll  _ definitely  _ take a while to even get used to the guy’s intimidating presence. But, given time- he shudders at the thought- they might become friends. 

He’ll have to call Iwa-chan before going to bed. Why did he have to stay in Miyagi? Why? Tobio-chan is in Miyagi and- he mentally gasps. No! Iwa might become friends with  _ Tobio _ ! 

“Sawamura Daichi” Daichi says, deep brown eyes focused on all of them. “You can call me Daichi. I’m a wing spiker and defensive specialist.” He absently stirs his spoon around in the softened icecream. “Not much besides that.” Ushijima hums. 

“You give yourself too little credit. I would say that your team had only needed you and perhaps your libero to have a good defense in regards to anything besides blocks.”

Daichi’s eyes widen at the comment and Oikawa’s mouth forms into an ‘o’. Both he and Kuroo lean forward in their seats, both of them wearing identical grins which Bokuto quickly joins in on. It seems as if the “respect” Ushijima has for Dai-chan might be  _ more  _ than respect. 

“Well, uh, thank you, Ushijima.” Daichi manages. He’s not blushing but the tips of his ears have suddenly gone red and man, that’s just cute. If Ushijima’s going to flirt with Daichi like that, then Oikawa’s going to put it on himself to protect Daichi. He’s the shortest one there thus he needs to be the most protected. Those bright red ears are a blessing to this world. 

Ushijima nods, looking. . .proud of himself? “My teammates told me that I need to be polite to others, especially since I will be living with others. They provided me with tips on how to be polite and gain. . .friends.” His voice quiets to nearly a mumble and  _ that’s it _ . Screw waiting days or weeks to become close to each of these guys- he’s already attached to all of them, stupid Ushiwaka included. 

And then the teen reinforces Oikawa’s thoughts by pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper, unfolding it and putting it in the center of the table. The four of them lean over it, eager to read what it says. 

It’s a list. Written in at least six different types of handwriting. 

“How to make friends” Bokuto reads outloud. “Step one: compliment them. Be honest and make them think better of themselves.” He pauses. “Aw~ that’s actually sweet.”

“Step two” Kuroo continues “Buy them presents. In western culture, bouquets of flowers, especially roses, are recommended?” He laughs and Oikawa can see where this is going. Daichi and Ushijima resign themselves to finishing their icecream while the three of them lean over the sheet. 

“Step three: take them out. Just the two of you. Night time p-p-preferred!” Oikawa laughs. He has to trace what he’s reading with his finger just to make sure he’s reading the kanji correctly. “Should not be miso, ramen, or sushi. European food is the best for this situation. Outdoor settings. Flowers. Nice music. Dress your best. Higher the price tag the better. Pay for the food.” Oikawa’s face is turning beat red as he tries to hold in the laughter. 

“Step four” Bokuto says with extreme seriousness, folding his hands on the table and sitting ramrod straight, barely glancing down at the paper as if he memorized the next step. “Lots of hugs. Maintain physical contact. When sitting on the couch, hold their hand or lie down with your head in their lap.”

Daichi gives Ushijima an incredulous look. 

“You were actually going to do all of this?” Ushijima nods. 

“I thought it seemed a bit intimate but I really haven’t had the time to get close to much people with school and volleyball. College would offer me more time, especially since we’re roommates. I thought the information was adequate since I don’t have much experience in this area.”

“Ushijima” Daichi says as carefully as possible. “This isn’t how to get a friend. This is how to get a  _ date _ , like a girlfriend or a boyfriend.” Ushijima stares at him. And then he blinks. And then his cheeks turn so red so quickly, Oikawa doesn’t know how it’s even possible. 

“W-w-well” he stutters “I, uh um, apologize. I didn’t mean for my advances to be of that sort.” 

Oikawa grins, bright and dangerous, and he meets Kuroo’s eyes and they’re both thinking the same things. Oh, this is revenge. Revenge for those mind defying spikes that have probably broken a few bones on the blockers end. 

“So that means you don’t find Dai-chan attracted?” Kuroo puts out, Daichi looking betrayed now that the former Nekoma captain has picked up the nickname. And it’s only been two hours. “You aren’t interested in a cute face like that with those strong,  _ strong  _ thighs and large brown eyes? Wouldn’t you agree that your words making his ears red are adorable?” Daichi buries his face in his hands and Bokuto’s mouth is hanging open in silent laughter, the levels of joy he must be feeling being so high that his vocal cords can’t register it. Ushijima leans back in his chair, face tilting up a bit subconsciously, neck muscles stiffening. 

“I mean, uh” he clears his throat. “ Sawa- _ Daichi _ ” he corrects “Is an attractive man, and you could say that some of his features are, uh, pleasing and adorable, as you would say.” Daichi’s forehead thunks against the table at Oikawa winks at Kuroo, who has his phone barely peeking above the edge of the table, recording the whole thing. 

“End me now” Daichi’s muffled voice comes. He pulls out his phone and dials a number, barely looking at the screen. Bokuto falls onto the floor, curled into a ball, muffling his laughter, and Kuroo is too busy biting his lip, eyes unblinking, to even move. “Hey, Asahi? Does your physical therapy degree count as psychology? Yes I know you haven’t started class. Yes, I have a problem. No” he sounds irritates. “It does  _ not  _ have to do with my roo- HEY!” Bokuto lunges up and steals Daichi’s phone. 

“Hey hey hey! Asahi! You probably don’t remember me but you will next time I see yah with Dai-chan and the rest of the chums.” 

Ushijima hesitantly pats Daichi on the back, having determined that the advice about giving physical contact might be acceptable based off of what he’s seen through friendly interactions. He’ll have to call his former team soon and give them a good talking to about the list, though. 

“Anyway, I am totally one of Dai-chan’s roommates! He’s so adorable! He blushes through his  _ ears _ .” He pauses to hear a reply. “Ah, no spoilers! It’s a surprise. Anyway, just wanted to tell you that. Can’t have Dai-chan lying to his friends about his roomies and his future boyfriend, am I right? Well, toodles!” 

“I’m going to die here” Daichi groans right before Bokuto ends the call, closes the phone, discreetly puts it on silent, and leas back up to put the phone back on the table before sitting down at his seat. He looks at his icecream and then shrugs and chugs it down like a milkshake, slamming the cup down, melted icecream smeared all around the area of his mouth. Daichi seems like he died, his arms resting on the table on either side of his head, forehead pressed against the table in death. 

“Really, Sa’amura?” Kuroo tutts. “Telling your friends your pains are not caused by your four fantastic fabulous faithful” he pauses, trying to find another word. 

“Flimsy?” Oikawa offers with a grin. Kuroo nods with appreciation at him. 

“Your four fantastic fabulous faithful flimsy roommates.” Daichi momentarily lifts his head off of the table to stare at Kuroo before looking at Ushijima. 

“Ushijima” he starts wryly “I might take you up on that date if we leave right now adn the date is actually returning the apartment so we can get our boxes back in before the meeting.”

“It’s almost three” Ushijima says, carefully spooning another portion of icecream into his mouth. “The meeting is at seven.” Bokuto winces. 

“Ah. I have dinner at that time.”

“Exactly. My aunt wants to meet my roommates. Via dinner.” 

“Ushiwaka” Oikawa says with a strained smile. “Have I ever told you how much of a  _ positive _ impact you’ve had in my life?”

“No, actually.”

“Well, that was a rhetorical question.”

  
  


Half an hour later, the five of them are lugging their boxes into their dorm/apartment. Daichi, being a lucky guy, only has two one large box which he easily carries inside, putting it on the coffee table. Oikawa has a lot of boxes, probably clothes, and it turns out his are the ones with the metallic teal ducktape. Ushijima has about five boxes, one which sounds like there’s metal rattling around inside. And Bokuto and Kuroo also have quite a few boxes and Bokuto brought a  _ lamp  _ with him. A floor lamp with little owl designs on the lamp shade. 

They decide that they’ll choose rooms after the meeting and dinner. The unanimous agreement is two people per room with the smallest room holding one person as well as a storage area for the empty suitcases. 

What they  _ do  _ do is sit on the couch. Same arrangement as before, with Bokuto, Ushijima, and Daichi on one couch and Kuroo and Oikawa on the smaller one, even though Oikawa teases Ushijima at first for still choosing to sit next to “Captain-chan”. But the glare Daichi sends him reminds him of Hinata’s excessive rants and how he occasional randomly exclaims how he “has to go or else Daichi will become angry and Daichi is  _ really really  _ scary when he’s angry”. Right now, Oikawa can practically  _ see  _ the aura. 

They stare at the blank wal where there’s nothing. 

“Guys” Bokuto says. “We need a TV.” Oikawa nods. 

“I brought a bunch of DVDs.”

“I don’t think we need one” Ushijima says with a frown. Oikawa blinks at him. 

“Dai-chan, ask your boyfriend how else we’re going to re-watch volleyball plays together.” This time both Daichi and Ushijima send Oikawa a glare but everyone can tell that he’s not going to abandon that tease anytime soon. Daichi fears the day that his team finds out who his roommates are. Even worse, when he goes to visit and somehow Ushijima and Oikawa tag along. He can already imagine what horrors could happen. 

“I think it would be wise to get a TV” Daichi says. “But how?” 

Bokuto winces. “I thought we were going to talk about finances and things tomorrow?”

“Don’t you want a TV?”

“. . .True.”

Daichi crosses his arms, settling himself a bit more comfortably on the couch. “Some of us might have to get jobs.” Kuroo flinches like a cat that just got sprayed with water, head rearing back. “But just parttime, I’d say. We’ll buy every-day things, like toilet paper, a coffee maker” Oikawa lets out a wistful sigh “TV, decorations. We’re going to be here for a long time. We need to make this our home.”

“And  _ this _ is why it’s a good thing we have five captains in one place!” Bokuto cheers. 

“What about us who won’t have a job?” Oikawa tentatively tries. Daichi’s grin is anything but friendly. 

“You do all of the chores.” 

Silence.

“I think. . .it would be best if all of us got parttime jobs.” Kuroo carefully slides the thought out. “And then we can equally divide the amount of work we have to do.” Oikawa closes his eyes and nods. 

“I can see it now. Otherwise, we’d have to see Ushijima in a frilly pink apron, making dinner, waiting for Dai-chan to come home from work so he can give him a ki- _ AH _ !” He gets a house slipper in the face from Ushijima, eyes narrowed. 

“Oikawa” he warns. Oikawa rubs at his cheek and brings his pointer finger and thumb together on the other hand, other three fingers splayed out. 

“O-kay!” Ushijima looks at him for a little bit longer before leaning back on the couch. Daichi looks at his box on the table. He hesitates. Then he gets up and opens the box, the flaps hiding the content from sight. He turns his head to look at everyone. 

“Can I hang something? It’ll help get rid of all the white space.” 

Kuroo shrugs. “It’s your place too man.” Daichi nods and he quickly takes the object, which seems to be a picture frame. He goes to the large, main wall that’s parallel to the door and separates the living room from the small closet to the left that you immediately see once you enter. There’s some nails still strategically hanging out of the wall and Daichi holds it up, adjusting the frame, before stepping back. 

Oh. 

It’s a photo of the Karasuno boy’s volleyball club, with the two cute and pretty managers and the scary looking young coach. Oikawa can see Daichi in the front, all of them in uniform. His smile is so big and bright, eyes barely open and brimming with tears that struggle to fall. His arms are slung around number two and number three, Mister Refreshing and the Ace. Refreshing is smiling with a hand reached back to ruffle the hair of the smiling second half of the freak-quick team, Hinata. The Ace is blushing but he looks so happy and soft, might he say, his other hand help by the team’s libero, who has an arm around the baldy. Tobio-chan is between the blond guy and Hinata, and he actually looks happy, a shy smile on his face. 

“Hey! That’s a nice idea! I even have my team photo!” Bokuto leaps onto his feet, rushing behind the couch where the boxes are. Kuroo joins him and Oikawa looks at the photo for one last time before joining them. Ushijima even enters the fray. 

After two minutes of bickering over positions, the photos are lined like an X on the wall. In the center is Karasuno, since Daichi had the idea of putting them up there. Aoba Johsai is in the top left while Shiratorizawa is in the bottom left. On the the top right is Fukurodani and the bottom right is Nekoma. 

“When we finally get our team photo” Daichi says “I’ll move my photo down a nail in line with Ushijima and Kuroo’s, and then we can put it in the top center in line with Oikawa and Bokuto’s. 

“Our team might be snobbish” Oikawa points out. “They might be there just to further their volleyball career and not really care about the rest of us.”

“True, but we can give them a chance.” Daichi says. 

“I don’t think we’ll have the same dynamic” Kuroo groans. “College is so much different than highschool.”

“Then why not a photo of all of us?” Bokuto offers, a wise choice for once. “I mean, it’s all of us with our teams, why not all of us together as friends?” And he doesn’t hesitate on the word. He looks down at Daichi and the brunette nods. 

“I like that idea.” He turns to Kuroo and Oikawa while Ushijima finishes adjusting his team photo. “You guys agree?” Ushijima silently nods and Kuroo and Oikawa just smile. 

“We’re going to be the best roommates ever” Kuroo grins. Oikawa shoulders him. 

“It’s only been a few hours. Take it slow.” 

Kuroo shakes his head. “Nope. Gotta take life fast and exciting. You can’t wait or else you’ll be slowed down by the rest of the world.”

“We’ll have Ushijima’s aunt take a photo!” Bokuto says with a snap of his fingers. “Our first day together, forever trapped in memory.” He looks at Ushijima and Daichi. “Romantic, right?” And then he runs away with equally pissed off Daichi and Ushijima running after him. 

* * *

“KAGEYAMA! LET’S TOSS!” Hinata yells after one sip of water. It’s a for-fun get together which they did right after Daichi left. It was so sad, really, seeing their captain going away from them for who knows how long. 

It’s the afternoon, around three. They had lunch together. The group consists of nearly the whole team: Suga, Nishinoya, Kiyoko, Asahi, Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Tanaka, and Yamaguchi. The other former second-years, now third-years, had some sort of thing they had to go to, which left Noya and Tanaka pretty disappointed. 

They’re gathered on a park’s soccer field, using spare articles of clothing to mark the boundaries. They were lucky that Tsukishima owned a portable net from his brother’s volleyball days. Right now they were taking a break and even though it was vacation, Hinata  _ still  _ wanted to practice some more. 

Kageyama glared at him, refusing to get up, but there was an endearing look in his eyes. 

Asahi’s phone starts ringing. 

“Oh!” Hinata exclaims. “Asahi-san, that can be Daichi!” 

“Daichi?” Suga’s head perks up. The teen told him that he probably won’t be able to call in a while so it’s probably unlikely. Asahi picks up the phone and his eyes widen. 

“It is Daichi” he says. 

“SPEAKER SPEAKER!” Noya exclaims. “We’ll surprise him!” Everyone quickly gathers around the device as Asahi fumbles to put it on speaker before pressing the ACCEPT CALL button. 

He doesn’t even get the chance to ask “Daichi?”

“Hey, Asahi?” Daichi sounds like he’s given up. Everyone’s silent, having paused their attempts to surprise him. This seems serious. “Does your physical therapy degree count as psychology?” Asahi blinks and opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, I know you haven’t started class. Yes, I have a problem.” Asahi swallows and he looks very  _ very  _ panicked. 

“I-I-Is this about your roommates?” The gentle giant manages. 

“No” Daichi sounds mildly irritated and they hear laughter in the background. “It does not have to do with my roo-  _ HEY _ !” His voice quickly becomes quieter, farther away, and there’s a cackle, followed by the sound of someone clearing their throat. 

“Hey hey hey! Asahi!” A new voice comes, slightly rough but bright and cheery. Similar to Tanaka. They all lean and closer and Tsukishima’s eyes widen in recognition. “You probably don’t remember me but you will next time I see yah with Dai-chan and the rest of the chums.” There’s the sound of something hitting against metal. “ _ Anyway _ , I am totally one of Dai-chan’s roommates!” Suga mouths the name  _ Dai-chan _ . “He’s so adorable!”

Wait. 

_ What _ ?

“He blushes through his ears!” Tsukishima leans forwards and he just needs to know. 

“Bokuto-san, is that you?” Tsukishima asks. There’s a moment of silence on the other end which just confirms it. 

“Ah, no spoilers! It’s a surprise!” Noya snorts because it’s not really a surprise anymore. “Anyway, just wanted to tell you that.” With each word, it sounds more and more like he’s holding in laughter. “Can’t have Dai-chan lying to his friends about his roomies and his future boyfriend, am I right? Well, toodles!” And then the line closes, but not before they hear Daichi speak. 

“I’m going to die here.”

The call ends. 

There’s an awkward silence. 

“So, uh. That was Bokuto-san” Tsukishima struggles to say those words. Yamaguchi carefully rubs his back, mumbling something incoherent except for a triplet of “Tsukki”s.

“How long have they know each other for?” Noya asks. 

“Bro. Did you hear the thing about future boyfriend? That means there’s someone  _ else  _ with there- one of their chums! A roommate! Bro: they’re trying to make a move on Daichi!” Tanaka wails, clutching at Noya. Noya wails with him. 

“So” Suga says slowly with narrowed eyes. “We know one of his roommates is Bokuto. He was the captain of Fukurodani, right?” Hinata nods. “So we know, in barely  _ five hours _ , Daichi’s roommates have become comfortable with calling him” he shudders “ _ Dai-chan _ , and also teasing that one of them will be his boyfriend?” 

“I can do the research” Kiyoko says. “I’m friends with Akaashi-kun, from Fukurodani. Our mothers knew each other. He’s friends with Bokuto-kun as well.” Tanaka and Noya’s eyes turn into hearts which are turned to Kiyoko. 

“THANK YOU KIYOKO-SAN!” They exclaim, Asahi and Yamagishi stopping the two of them from jumping at their former manager. 

She nods. “It’s the least I could do. It is worrying, what could be happening to him.”

Suga strokes his chin. And then he grins. 

“We’ll give them about a semester” he says. “We happen to have their dorm address, remember.” Everyone shares a knowing and evil, scheming look. Even sweet Asahi who’s still blushing from the exuberant phone call. 

One semester to plan at least two deaths and rescue one damsel. 


	5. Chapter 5

He’s feeling nervous already. He has to stop himself from playing with his hands in his lap, both for comfort and to warm up his hands because the air conditioner in this room is making the place so  _ cold. _ To his left, having stolen the spot at the edge of the table, sits Ushijima. Daichi is trying to stay calm but it’s hard with Ushijima sending him an undecipherable side glance and the trio sitting to his right are dressed in more formal clothing than the pressed white button down and black slacks that Daichi is dressed in. 

And there’s a single guy, sitting right in front of him. He looks like he just hit fifty, hair speckled with white and nose turning into a sort of bulge at the end. And he wouldn’t stop staring at Daichi from down his nose. 

The guy never said anything. He has a stack of files under his folded hands which Daichi has a suspicion of what they may be. 

Even Kuroo, Oikawa, and Bokuto are quiet. 

Then the door opens and all of them have an excuse to look away from the guy who seems to be trying to stare holes into Daichi while emanating an aura that would send the rest of the group down a slow path to death. 

“Oh, so  _ these  _ are our new lovelies!” The group is head by a woman dressed in a white and yellow casual dress, her warm brown eyes and youthful grin removing the distasteful aura from the surrounding air. Daichi has to stop himself from slumping just a bit, but that doesn’t seem to be the same for Bokuto. Her gaze lands on Ushijima and she grins. “Oh gods, you’ve grown so  _ much _ !” She nearly squeals, nearly bouncing over to the junior national player’s chair to pinch his cheeks. “You look so much like your mother Toshi!”

“Obasan” Ushijima says with a polite bow of his head. Five more people enter the doorway, the last two wearing aprons and working together to push a cart with glass pitchers, plates, glasses, and covered trays on it. The smell of warm food floats through the air. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ushijima-san” Daichi manages because it’s strange to call someone other than the guy to his left Ushijima. The woman smiles and she’s completely different from Daichi’s mental image of Ushijima’s relative. 

“Pleasure is mine” she says, quickly taking her seat in front of Ushijima. The other three also sit, the rest of them men, while the two who brought the court stand in the corner of the unreasonably large room. The man in front of Daichi eyes him one last time before handing out the files to the adults on his side of the table. 

Ushijima-san tutts. 

“Aki-san” she says. “Stop staring holes into the poor boy.” Aki’s nose twitches at Daichi but he doesn’t say anything. The other three, who Daichi assumes are the other three members of the sports board of directors, send Aki an awkward glance while giving Daichi an apologetic one. 

“Well, I think introductions are necessary” the guy in front of Kuroo at the other end of the table says, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “A bit unfair that Ushijima-san dragged all of you here for dinner without knowing who any of us are while all of us know you. You’ve already met Ushijima-san and Aki-san. You can call me Fujimoto-san.”

“Hana-san” the shorter male in front of Oikawa says. The man who was either fortunately or unfortunately placed in front of Bokuto in the center introduces himself as Ubai-san.”

“We’ll be having dinner after our discussion” Ushijima-san says with a smile. “Wouldn’t want you boys getting too full to understand what we’re saying.”

The first thing she talks about is the scholarship. Now, Ushijima already told the four of them about it, but there were still some things that he hadn’t told him. This included how volleyball will be their priority and that no practices can be skipped unless it’s due to illness or they have a written excuse which still allows them to attend some of practice. They will have a class taught by their coach about volleyball strategies and plays twice a week. Money will be provided for any materials they may need to play efficiently, as long as they have filled in paperwork explaining why the thing is necessary and beneficial for the plater. For some reason, Aki-san sends Daichi a nastier look at this. 

There were more little things, but Daichi decided to allow himself to zone out a little once Ushijima-san said that she’ll be emailing each of them a PDF of what is required of them to keep the scholarship. It sounded pretty restricted in theory, but in reality, it wasn’t. Most of it was already what was expected of serious volleyball players.

“As I assume Toshi-chan told you already” Ushijima-san continues, switching the topic “The scholarship was created to fill in the gaps in our Varsity team since our Junior Varsity team is mostly composed of those who don’t wish to further their career beyond college. We lost some good players and our school has a reputation for for being at least a little bit above mediocre in skill, and we want to keep that up. The Junior Varsity team was conditioned to play in a certain way, with a certain mindset. Our Varsity team doesn’t just play schools in Japan, but we’re also part of an association which includes South Korea, China, Vietnam, and the eastern part of India. 

“After some evaluation, we determined the members of our junior team unable to be able to adapt. The five of you were chosen based off of your skills. We lost our reserve setter, some spikers, our libero, and our middle blocker switched to pinch server.”

All of this, it’s moving rather quickly. A similarity that the two Ushijimas have is getting straight to the point but Daichi would of appreciated some sort of pacing. 

“Ushijima-san” Hana-san politely points out. “Perhaps we should have the food served so that the children have a way to take what you’re going so say in?”

“I agree” Fujimoto-san says which a tired smile on his face. “It’s been a long day with the coaches and I’m rather starved.”

Aki-san is quiet and he’s still glaring at Diachi. 

“Very well” Ushijima-san yields, waving over the two men who had basically become invisible in the corner over to the table. It took about two minutes to dish food onto each of the plates, but once it was served, they all said a brief thanks before digging in with quick metal chopsticks. Kuroo and Bokuto immediately start digging in, shoveling rice and chicken into their mouths, while Ushijima, Oikawa, and Daichi eat with some more care. He has a strange feeling about Aki-san, and a quick look Ushijima’s way relieves him of some of his feelings because the boy’s olive eyes are slightly narrowed at Aki-san while he slowly chews on a piece of spring onion. 

“Positions” Ushijima-san mutters, slipping over the top file. “Ah! Yes, it should be quite obvious who we have chosen for out reserve setter.”

“Am I correct to assume that that would be me?” Oikawa says with a charming smile on his face, one hand folded under his chin. 

“As charming as your file says” Aki-san drawls. 

Fujimoto-san rolls his eyes. “Seems like we have to work on  _ your  _ charm, Aki-san. Anyway, you are correct, Oikawa-kun. Although, based off of the videos of your games, you might be able to fight your way to starter if you work hard enough.”

Oikawa’s eyes practically  _ sparkle _ . Another reason to practice volleyball for an insane amount of time. 

“We’ve also agreed that Kuroo-kun will be middle blocker, as that was the position he played already, and he’s quite exceptional in that position. I mean no offense by saying that you aren’t as good as our middle blocker was, but you’re already more skilled than our reserve player. Focused training can yield results which could surpass expectations. And he had been playing for four years and you’re almost at his level of skill.”

Now it’s Kuroo’s turn to sparkle. Fujimoto-san really knows how to get everyone excited. 

Ubai san clears his throat. “Bokuto-kun, Ushijima-kun. Both of you are top aces, so it’s no question why you were selected. I hope I see improvements and that your previous status- and your current one, Ushijima-kun - won’t restrict you two from improving as much as your colleagues.”

Ushijima-san lets out a laugh. “Ubai-san! They aren’t colleagues anymore. They’re going to be roommates. The best team is a team who gets along not just on the court, but also outside. The ultimate level of trust. And seeing as at least two of you should be on the starting lineup, it will be  _ amazing  _ if all five of theme are on the court at the same team.” She looks at Daichi, meeting his eyes. 

“You’re probably wondering why you were selected. Kuroo-kun was a nominee for his skill in defense, Oikawa-kun is one of the best setters, and Toshi and Bokuto-kun were the top aces in the nation. As a member of the board, I search for anything that will benefit the future of my school. It’s included watching one too many painful highschool matches. But the Miyagi prefecture. . .they’ve been exceptional this year. And Karasuno. 

“My eyes were first drawn, of course, to your spiker-setter duo, the orange haired boy and the grumpy guy.” Oikawa lets out a small “Tobio-chan!” from his seat. “I watched some more matches to see how they worked together, but then I was drawn to your teams interactions. So friendly, but not excessive. Orderly, but not strict. You have  _ fun _ while maintaining respect and professionalism. And then I thought “Hmm. . .who’s keeping track of all of these pipsqueaks?” Then I saw  _ you _ , Sawamura-kun. The eye isn’t immediately drawn to you but your actions as a defender rival your libero. And, seeing as we only had one libero. . .”

Kuroo leans back in his seat, looking at Daichi. 

“Woah. No way.” Daichi is also in shock. He’s never played as a libero. Sure, in theory he knows how to play it from having to teach himself everything about all the positions in his second year after coach left and their third years retired after the InterHigh. But to actually be shoved into that position, on a Varsity team in the school with of the best volleyball teams in the country. 

And the season is starting soon. 

“One of our spikers lightly practiced playing as a libero in case we needed someone to mimic our libero’s actions in case of injury or some other external event, but he’s a better player and teammate on the offense rather than the defense.” Ushijima-san lightly smiles at Daichi. “Is that alright?”

He’s still trying to process, forcing his mind to do so. Even Ushijima seems surprised, telling by the more than a millimeter raise of his visible eyebrow. He’s looking at Daichi with interest, trying to see what he’s going to see. 

“I’ll try my best.” He says, experience as a captain and the emotions that came with it allowing him to shove back the nervousness and replace it with a smile that he likes to think rivals Suga or Oikawa’s. 

But. . .it’s thrilling. 

The libero Karasuno had when he was a first year never filled Daichi with thrill when he watched him on the court. He followed the rules, but he wasn’t exceptional. When Daichi became a second year, their libero graduated and in came Nishinoya Yuu, the best libero in the prefecture. 

And he was  _ amazing _ . 

He could dive and he could roll while getting the ball, reminding Daichi of gymnasts. He got along fantastically with Asahi, making an effort to actually get along with him. He could save ninety-nine perfect of the balls with ease, dashing across the court at incredible speeds. 

To know that he was going to be trained to be a libero. And he just barely fit into the height range. Now he feels kind of better about being the shortest of the five. And it’s exciting, in the moment, to know that next time he sees Noya they’ll be playing the same position. Daichi will be faster and tougher, his eye faster and his coordination better. He can learn from his kouhai and also tell him how college volleyball is like, even though he’ll probably go to the same school as Asahi, knowing how close they are. 

He isn’t ready for Aki-san’s comment or the emotions that suddenly erupt from him. And the excitement quickly disappears like a pile of chalk powder in the middle of a windstorm. 

“You can’t just try your best” he hisses, his clenched over the open file and a look at it shows a picture of Daichi in his Karasuno uniform. The end of his chopsticks quickly flick across the paper and the photo with the movement, creating a greasy line. “I don’t know  _ why _ Ushijima-san nominated you and  _ how  _ the other three of my colleagues agreed with her.” He spits. “I agree with what she said about you not standing out at first.  _ You don’t _ .” 

There’s a gasp from some of the members of the table and Daichi feels like he’s caught in the eye of a hurricane. Everything is moving so fast around him, but he himself, he’s stuck in place. An observer to his own fate, eyes unblinking as he simply stares forward into the burning eyes of the man that sits before him. 

“Aki, that’s enough.” Ushijima-san warns, dropping the honorifics. She’s getting ready to stand and Kuroo has already stood up, the anger visibly growing on his face. 

But Daichi doesn’t see that. Because he can’t move his gaze. He’s trapped as a slave to fate and once again,  _ this was a bad idea. I really never should have come.  _

“You’re not important so you aren’t skilled.” He continues, slowly getting up. “I’ve heard of all of these players, even Kuroo-kun from his coach.” He’s towering over Daichi, his hands on the table as he leans forward and now Daichi can see his impressive height, head instinctively tilting up to continue to meet his gaze which just should be sending panic through him. “But you’re just some country boy who stole the scholarship from any of the dozens of players who could of been a better select than  _ you _ . Such a waste. You’ll probably end up as nothing more than a failure”

It’s silent. 

If this had been said to anyone else, Daichi would of let go of most of his self-control. For a guy like him, he can surprisingly scary, and he knows that. And he’s never had words like this turned to him. The closest was Coach Ukai Sr. , and it was only advice on how to improve his moves. If he had said this to Asahi, he would of shouted at him about how good of a player Asahi was. If it has Hinata, he might of punched the guy. He definitely would of come close if he said this to Yamaguchi. 

But he’s talking about him. 

He thought that Tokyo would expand his life. He has no intent on leaving Miyagi behind. He keeps in contact with his team and it hits him that it hasn’t even been a  _ day yet _ . He never knew that there were people with this sort of prejudice, and just because of what? He wasn’t skilled and he was from the country. If he was from Tokyo, perhaps he wouldn’t of been harsh at all and they could of had a cordial meeting. But this entire time, the man was glaring at him. 

“If you’ll excuse me” Daichi softly says in the silence. His hands are still and he sets his chopsticks down on his barely eaten plate of food. He was still kind of full from the icecream they had a few hours ago. He sees Kuroo’s eyes burning with rage, his fists shaking at his side. Bokuto turns in his seat. 

“Dai-” he starts, reaching a hand out, but Daichi shoves it off. He gives Bokuto a forced smile, the same smile he gave his team immediately after their loss in the InterHigh. The only difference is that this time, it doesn’t turn into something natural. He doesn’t know what to feel. Is he even feeling anything?

No, he decides. Or else he most certainly would of done something frowned upon in this situation. He’s just kind of numb. It seems like words do hurt him. 

“I’m fine, Bokuto” he says. Not  _ it’s alright _ , not  _ I’m good _ . No.  _ I’m fine _ , the equivalent of maybe with feelings, a neutral word which one only really says when they aren’t alright. Ushijima has only moved to look at him, the poor guy, he thinks. He probably doesn’t know what to do in these situations. He’s never seen so much emotion on his face. Or that type of anger. Kuroo has already gotten up and moved around the table and Fujimoto-san has to keep Kuroo from attacking. 

“Daichi” Oikawa says by the time Daichi is at the door. Daichi can’t look at him. He’ll have to eventually, he knows. They live together now. 

Twenty-four hours ago, he was strong. He stood in front of his team with pride and courage. He was brave. But now, a man more than twice his age beat him down with less than a minute of words. He really has become weak. This reminds him of Middle School, when he started playing for the school team, the older kids spiking the ball at him and there was so much power and they’d laugh when he’d miss the ball or hit it at such a bad angle. 

What happened to the great captain Sawamura Daichi, the leader of the nearly undefeatable murder of noble crows?

“Enjoy yourself” Daichi says and he twists the knob and exits the room, hurrying, because he hears Oikawa coming after him. He closes the door behind him before rushing down the hall and to the stairs, but not before hearing the door slam open again with Oikawa calling for him and the shouts of freshmen-to-be and adults in the room. He caused all of this. He caused this disorder. 

“DAICHI! HEY, SAWAMURA, WAIT!” 

Oikawa may have longer limbs than him, but he’s faster.  _ Seeing as we only had one libero. . .are you fine with that? _ Two flights later and with Oikawa still calling him, no more than ten seconds behind him, he bursts our of the stairwell and into the main hall. The place is empty so he easily makes it to the automatic doors at the front just as Oikawa comes out of the stairwell, faster than expected. 

“Daichi,  _ please _ . Wait up!” And he feels bad for Oikawa. And he feels petty. He’s running away from his feelings, from the truth because he’s told himself so many time  _ why is he here _ ? It seems like Asahi’s tendency for self-destructive thoughts has transferred to him. 

Daichi moves from a light run/ brisk walk to a hardcore sprint. The dorm isn’t far. He doesn’t know if he has more stamina. 

He has to slow down when a group of girls appear in his path, all scantily clad. One of them immediately latch onto him and what she wears can’t even be called clothes, just flimsily connected strings. 

“Hey there handsome” she says and he can smell alcohol on her breath as the rest of them giggle. He can hear Oikawa catching up. “You look sad. And you’re dressed so nicely. Your girl break up?” Before she can get closer, he stumbles back and rips away from her, stumbling to turn around before he powerfully pushes himself forward, continuing his run. 

Two minutes later, he’s back at the dorm. 

He dismisses the attendant. 

He ignored the elevator. 

He just runs up the stairs, occasionally taking two at a time before he reaches floor our, his calves started to burn. He pulls his key out of his pocket and opens it right as Oikawa’s shouts meet his ear. He closes the door, quickly locking it, dropping his key to floor and rushes through the shared apartment dorm. 

Before they left, they explored the apartment. They were supposed to have fun after the dinner. See who rooms with who, draw sticks or numbers to see who’ll be lucky or not. All they knew for sure was that Ushijima and Oikawa shouldn’t room together but it’d still be interesting if they did. They were supposed to read the PDF together, maybe, and also discuss their positions. They were supposed to  _ enjoy themselves _ . 

It hasn’t even been a day yet. 

He needs to call Suga. He needs to call Asahi. Even Tsukishima would work! He just needs someone he really  _ knows _ , his family. Because now that he’s here, now that he somehow makes his way into a room, slamming the door behind him, not even bothering to lock it, he does what he thought he might do before. The thought birthed out of humor when he found out who his roommates were and the possible horrors it could bring. But that was before he got to know them. If there’s one thing Daichi is, that’s being able to tell the good people from the bad. And who could tell from his unnerving gaze that Aki-san was someone who wasn’t good, but he had blocked his gut feeling because he was a director. 

The room is the medium sized one, the one to hold two people, two twin sized beds positioned near the middle of the room. Unlike his humor born vision, this room has a window of it on the wall close to the bed further from the door. He goes to that corner of the room, sliding down as he hears Oikawa call for him, and the trembling starts. He pulls his knees to his chest, not even bothering to kick his shoes off. He shudders and chokes in a sob because why is he letting this affect him so much?

Because it hurt. That one of the people who he thought were so kind for giving him this chance actually hated him so vehemently. 

As he fumbles to his phone, he feels the cool of the moonlight that streams through the window. He can’t get rid of this panic, this hurt. He  _ can’t _ . For how many times he’s comforted Asahi during their first and second and third years, he can’t do the same for himself. The location of the number he’s going to dial is already memorized and he doesn’t even have to look at the screen, shaking from the movements of his hand, to see that he’s clicked the right number. One hand pulls at his hair before placing itself over his mouth to choke back the sobs when he realizes he hasn’t heard Oikawa speak from the front of the apartment but he now hears footsteps approaching the room over the thumping of his heart. 

“Uh, it’s too late for this” he hears on the other end of the line. “Sugawara Koushi, who is it?” His friend sounds so tired and he must of woken him up. He feels so bad. Apparently he isn’t good at volleyball and now he’s not good as a friend. His plan wasn’t to advance his volleyball career this much, but it seems like now that he did, he got his hopes up too high. He’s just a simple country boy. What’s he doing here?

And he’s about to hang up, thumb moving, but one of his breaths make it past his hand, shuddering and broken. There’s a confused “Huh?” on the other end and then the sound of someone’s breath hitching and coth moving. 

“Daichi?” And that single word, his own name spoken by his best friend, just makes him fall. He hasn’t cried in front of Suga for a long time. He didn’t cry when his tooth was knocked out. He cried a little after Nationals because the season for them  _ ended _ , but it was more bittersweet than sad. A sob makes it past his lips. “Daichi? Hey, are you okay? Daichi, speak to me.” Suga’s sounded more desperately and Daichi can’t stop the tears from spilling or the sobs from cracking out. 

“I-I-I’m so sorry” Daichi manages, sobbing. “I failed. Gods, I’m such a-a-” he lets out a whimper. “I can’t Suga. I-I-thought I had it, b-but I, I don’t. I don’t.  _ Suga _ .” He can feel the alarm from the other side of the line. 

“Daichi, do you need me to come? I can be there by morning. Just say the word. Is it your roommates?” His voice turns venomous. “We were able to find out that Bokuto is one of them, but I swear of any of them laid  _ one finger  _ on you-”

“ _ NO! _ ” He nearly shouts and his voice breaks. “No, Suga, it wasn’t them. Th-they’re w-wonderful.” And he remembers. 

There’s Kuroo, who he’s become pretty well acquainted with from the training camps and watching their teams shenanigans. They even have each others numbers. And the same goes for Bokuto. Kuroo, who was ready to slug Aki-san right in the face, most likely. Bokuto who reached a hand out to him while looking so angry and confused. 

There’s Ushijima, who he barely talked to before this but still earned his respect. Who was able to show some pure emotion because of Daichi. There’s Oikawa, who chased him all the way over here. Even with the possibility of tripping and hurting his knee without his brace on, for  _ not having his brace on and  _ still  _ running after him.  _ And all four of them, they were rivals. Daichi defeated them and a part of him thought that they’d cheer the guy on, that Oikawa would sneer his failures as a captain in his face and he’d just take it in. 

He thought he was strong. They all thought he was strong. 

Guess they were wrong. 

“Daichi? Daichi, you’re having a panic attack! W-wait, come on, listen to me. Say something! DAICHI!” But he can’t hear him. He can’t. He just thinks of laughs and jeers and taunts and verbal blows. 

He drops the phone. 

* * *

Oikawa enters the room. He didn’t want to panic Daichi anymore than he already had been. He was lucky that that disgusting girl decided to cling onto Daichi, or else Oikawa wouldn’t of been this fast. 

He opens the door and Daichi is trembling in the far corner of the room, sobs so very audible. 

Oikawa Tooru trusts Sawamura Daichi. Ever since he saw him at that practice match when he came near the end of the game. He was strong and he looked like someone you could trust and he wouldn’t judge. He’s observed Karasuno’s dynamic with Daichi there and he really was their foundation, their pillar of strength. 

He also doesn’t trust and now very much hates Aki of the sports Board of Directors. Those words, they were the cruelest things Oikawa has ever heard. He never wished someone to be beat up as badly as then. The icecream had brought them close, and the knowledge of being roommates even closer, and all of that so very quickly. And seeing the shock and then the slow joy spread across Daichi’s face when he learned why he was there, that he was basically getting the defense version of the position of the setter and that, then, all five of them had believed him skilled enough to become one had been  _ amazing _ . And then that shithead went ahead and tore it all down. It’s like telling the ace that he was the ace and then telling him that someone from the golf team would of been a better player than him!

And because he hurt Daichi, he hurt Oikawa. Because Daichi is his friend. Sure, it’s been less than a day, but they will become friends so why not admit it? They already were acquainted and he even gave him the honor of being called Dai-chan!

What’s happening in front of him, that also scares him. 

“Dai-chan” he tries, slowly but somehow quickly approaching where Daichi was sitting. “Are you okay?” Daichi’s eyes are glued onto the floor, his hand clamped around his mouth, fingers digging into his cheek and pressing into his teeth in a grip that  _ has  _ to be painful. There’s two different voices barely coming out of the phone, sounding equally as worried as he is. 

He slowly slides the phone out of Daichi’s grip, putting the phone on speaker so he can talk to whoever is on the other end that Daichi decided to call so that he can ask them  _ what the heck he should and what the heck are they doing _ ? He just catches the name on the screen: Suga. Wasn’t he the reserve setter? The silver haired boy?

There’s noise coming on the other end. “Daichi, I don’t care  _ what  _ you think” he hears the normally calm and pleasant voice say “But I just booked the soonest train to Tokyo. Apparently the one you took is going further south so it won’t be back until five in the morning or something, but I should be there by lunch. And I have your address, remember? You’ll be okay, alright?” The talking suddenly stops, replaced by only slightly faster breaths before the talking continues.

“I’m not going to tell anyone about this, but can you say something? I won’t be there for a while but can you say something? Please?” 

Oikawa takes this chance to introduce himself. 

“Hello, I’m one of Daichi’s roommates” Oikawa says and there’s a moment of silence on the other end. Continue it is. “He’s huddled in a corner right now. It’s actually pretty scary and he’s not responsive. He’s just shaking and stuff. But we’ll be ready for you tomorrow. We were going to hold off the fun of us meeting for at least the end of the semester, but he really needs you.” Raw emotion bleeds through his voice and he maneuvers himself to sit next to Daichi, happy that he isn’t muscular like Bokuto. He carefully slings an arm around Daichi’s hunched back and holds onto his shoulder, bringing him close to him in a hug. Daichi’s curl around his own body but he leans into the hold. 

“What happened, basically, is that we were called to discuss the scholarship with the board of directors. But one of them, the bast**d, didn’t approve of Daichi. And he just started slinging insults at him and it was  _ horrible _ . He ran all the way back here.” There’s silene on the other end. And then a loud groan. 

“I can’t believe it” Suga admits. “They did something like  _ that _ ?” Oikawa nods, unaware of the fact that he can’t see the motion. 

“Can you talk about Karasuno to him? He loves you guys a lot and I think that’ll help him the mo-”

“Of course!” The guy at the other end says and Oikawa increases the volume on the phone to max and puts it on the ground, wrapping both arms around Daichi’s body, his right hand eventually snaking up to stroke Daichi’s hair, the other rubbing what he hopes to be soothing circles. He never spoke, he just trembled, staring at the phone. Oikawa made some comments here and there, mainly to ask for more details about some of Tobio-chan’s funnier moments with Chibi-chan. It was expected of him to be like that and what Daichi needs is a tie to reality. 

Daichi finally says something fifteen minutes and twenty-three percent of the battery later. 

“T-tell him about Kageyama’s first time using tempos with Hinata.” The story immediately switches and their voices aren’t so tense anymore. Daichi relaxes even more in Oikawa’s hold and he finds that he’s trembling less. Oikawa finds himself smiling while he hears about his kouhai learning a new technique which Oikawa kinda has the theory down already. It’ll be a good idea to learn to use that while setting. It’ll increase accuracy so much. 

It’s another fifteen minutes later when Oikawa feels Daichi’s head slip on his shoulder. He looks to his left and he finds that the brunette has fallen asleep, with tear stains dried on his face, the area around his eyes puffy, and the corner of his mouth still pulled into a small smile. 

“Hey” he says to Suga, who he’s now pretty sure is Sugawara, Karasuno’s third-year setter who was replaced by Tobio-chan. He vaguely wonders why Ushijima, Bokuto, and Kuroo are late. Did they beat up the director and get sent to jail? “He fell asleep.” He sadly smiles. “If it weren’t for what just happened, he’d look really cute.”

“Yeah” Suga admits. “Thanks for being there, I guess. My phone’s almost drained but it was worth it. It would of been better if he didn’t overload and pass out, but this is fine, I guess. I’ll be there tomorrow, anyway.”

“It’s fine” Oikawa says. 

“I never caught your name.”

Oikawa smiles and rakes his fingers through Daichi’s hair another time. How is it so soft? It doesn’t feel like he uses anything special. 

“I never caught yours either.”

“Sugawara Koushi. I graduated the same year as Daichi and was on the same team as him.” 

“Nice” he says. “I’ll see you two tomorrow. Suga-kun.” And he ends the call. And then looks to his left. 

_ Now _ what is he going to do. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]I didn't mean for the angst to come in so early in the story. I wanted to make this chapter nice and light and fluffy, like a pancake. But then I started reading around and looking back at my fics and I tend to stick to the same things so I wanted to introduce prejudice into this story. In this case, prejudice based off of social standing. Daichi isn't a well known player, like Bokuto or Ushijima or Oikawa. As for Kuroo, Nekoma is in Tokyo, so that boosts his standing a bit. I actually had to read a little bit of prejudice in order to see if what I'm writing about is applicable for that theme. 
> 
> [2]I wanted to introduce Suga _much_ later in the fic. After a semester. A thing I was excited about to have in this fic is the slow build-up of the Karasuno team getting suspicious of Daichi's mystery roommates, ever since the phone call, but then I had the angst happen. I was just about to publish a version of this chapter in which it was actually both Suga and Asahi who Daichi called. It goes exactly the same except Asahi is sleeping over at the Sugawara household and the two of them decide to come. But after writing this section of the author's note, I decided that I can't just have all the graduates find out about Daichi's roomies so early on in the fic. So I went back and edited Asahi out so that it's just Suga. 
> 
> [3]Why Suga? Well, if you think about, how would Suga react if he found out that Daichi pretty much kept secret about his roommates for a whole semester? It may seem small, but the two of them are best friends. They tell each other things. In canon, it seemed like the two of them trust each other so much. They can tell when something's up with the other. In this world, Daichi's only family in the area is his mom, and she's not around much because of work. Suga is the closest thing he has to a brother, and I don't know if I'm going to do anything about ships in this fic. So coming over at a moment's notice is what family and best friends so. Suga's behavior is completely normal. He's so close to Daichi, he cares for him so much. I have to make that bond noticeable in this story and it's convenient that Suga finds out early-on because the Tokyo group's university term starts earlier than the Miyagi group's, so there's no school messing up with when you can visit or not. 
> 
> [4]So is anyone else going to find out? Answer: No. Suga's going to catch on pretty quickly just by seeing the roommates. He's going to want to see how everyone else reacts to finding out that Daichi is bros with their formal rivals. We have Oikawa, the Great King and the guy who Hinata pretty much doesn't have much respect for. There's Ushijima, the seemingly stoic and emotionless volleyball robot who probably couldn't get along with friends with anyone but his emotional evolution will pretty much mirror Kageyama's transition from Kitagawa Daiichi to Karasuno. Then Kuroo and Bokuto, the two with teams who are like family and who both are pretty close with Hinata and Tsukishima, even though the former will deny any and all ties he has to the two. 
> 
> [5] I think it's going to be fun once I start switching around POV's rather than sticking to Daichi, who- if you haven't noticed yet- is my favorite character. The group only knows so far that Bokuto is Daichi's roommate, but they have no idea who the other undefined number are. Just think about it: Daichi acting mysterious about his roommates with Karasuno, Iwaizumi about to blow a fuse with Oikawa's phone calls ranting about roommates he won't even name, Kenma's eye twitching because he's secretly very protective of Kuroo and he thinks his anon roommates are harassing him, and Ushijima's texts to his Shiratorizawa chat actually being emotionally considerate and relating to something besides volleyball and the occasional farm pun. Just image all of the school bonding together through the roommates because they're just kinda worried about their captains ; )
> 
> [6] One of the things I want to address with this fic is the individual protagonists. This is not going to be the end of the angst and starting from here is the emotional hurt/comfort tag. I'm going to give each of our dear captains a turn at being comforted because, let's just face it: life's not perfect, even in the fictional world. Daichi's problems will be much subtler in the future, mostly because he's the most captain-y of the captains, so he's kind of like their rock. He's going to be the one who knows what to do in most of the situations, so expect to see Daichi having more of a comforting position rather than the one needing comforting. 
> 
> [7] Next chapter will be comforting Daichi! After that we'll have our boys settling in, having fun with each other, taking care of chore assignments and getting jobs. So don't except anything like this for a while. At least not until their volleyball practice starts, which probably won't be until another few chapters.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the night ended and how the next day started. Featuring Daichi playing the role of the milk bread god, food savior, favorite roommate, and Ushijima as the intimidating guy who answers the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter! This took me one more day to write and I didn't expect it to be this long, but only the best for my boys. This chapter was really fun to write, especially the middle section (the part of the chapter between the first and last line-break)

After Oikawa exits the room, running after Daichi, that’s when Kuroo finally decides to stop struggling. He rips himself from the directors grip, happy that Bokuto and Ushijima are still sending Aki nasty glares.

“Aki” Ushijima-san says with narrowed eyes. “That was very uncalled for. We will be sending the headmaster and the board a complaint regarding this situation. I thought the last time was the only and last time something like this would happen, but it seems like your bigotry and prejudice has no end.”

Kuroo has to hold back a growl as he slinks over to where Daichi had been sitting before, just so that he has the pleasure of glaring at Aki. 

“Way to go” Bokuto drawls, chin lazily resting in the palm of his hand with his eyes glinting dangerously, reminding Kuroo somewhat of Oikawa. “First day here- first twelve  _ hours  _ here, and you might of ruined a kid’s whole life.”

Aki scoffs. “I was merely stating the truth. It’s not my fault that I sa-” and he’s cut off by the sound of a chair being forced back so quickly that it tips over and then the sound of metal clanking. Aki’s eyes roll up and he slumps in his chair, the rice that was previously on the metal tray that was thrown at his head scattering. 

Ushijima’s face is carefully neutral as he sits back down, folding his hands, ignoring the remaining six peoples’ stares. 

“That was so out of character, bro” Bokuto says. Ushijima gives a slight shrug. 

“It was the best course of action. This meeting should continue without any distractions. There is no need to worry about Sawamura at the moment. I am confident in Oikawa’s abilities. 

“There isn’t really anything else to talk about.” Fujimoto-san doesn’t look at Ushijima, carefully brushing some rice that fell onto his stack of files. “The PDF will explain everything better than we can. Nothing like this will happen in the future, I assure you.”

“Toshi” Ushijima-san says to her nephew. “Do want me to pack some food for your friend? He barely ate anything.”

Ushijima nods in agreement. “Thank you, obasan.” She gives him a sweet smile in return. 

“No problem.” And she leaves the room, probably to look for a container of sorts. 

The next twelve minutes are so very awkward. Aki is still knocked out. The other three directors have put the files away while the two servers cleaned the table. Bokuto, Kuroo, and Ushijima just sent looks at each other, most of them filled with concern and agitation, obviously for a person who isn’t in the building. 

“I’m back! Aki hasn’t woken up yet, has he?” Ushijima-san asks, her heels clicking on the ground, closing the door behind her. She holds what looks like a bento box and when she goes to pack it, their answer is questioned. It is indeed a bento box. 

She neatly picks food from the cart, organizing them into the sections, stuffing the container to the brim. She pats the top one last time before giving it to Ushijima. 

“Thank you for coming” she says with a sad smile, giving the three a short bow. The other three follow. The three teens just barely manage to bow back, making sure not to look at Aki’s fallen body. Ushijima hods the box close to him and the three are silent until the door closes behind them. 

“I have never wanted to punch anyone  _ so much  _ in my life.” Bokuto seethes. ‘I’ve never wanted to punch anyone! Like, ever!” 

Kuroo nods. His hands are stuffed in his pockets. “It was kinda freaky, seeing how Sawamura was like. Gods, I’m actually wondering what we’ll see when we get back home. He’s the captain of captains. Did you guys see the video of their prelim match against that pink and white team?” 

Both Bokuto and Ushijima shake their heads. Kuroo opens the door to the stairwell, opting to use that rather than the elevator, and the two don’t question it. Unknown to them, this was the same path that two others took less than an hour ago. “Well, in the second set, he collided with the baldy. Shoulder to the face. Had him on the ground for a bit and it was scary as hell. I heard from Kenma who learned from Shrimpy that his tooth was knocked out.” Bokuto winces. “But even then, he kept his composure and he wanted back in.”

“I acknowledge his resilience.” Ushijima holds the door at the bottom open for them. “Words, many times, can be much more harmful than any physical threat.”

It’s a bit chilly outside, the warmth that was there when they went to get icecream gone. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this” Bokuto says “Since I’m pretty sure we’ve all thought of this already, but we’ve become pretty close. And it’s been, what? Eight hours?”

“Less than eight” Kuroo sighs, looking up at the black sky, trying to find the stars that he was able to see when he visited Miyagi. But this is Tokyo. The sky was an off shade of black with splotches off what he assumes to be clouds. He frowns when he sees that Bakuto isn’t smiling, a contemplative look on his face. “Oi. Bo.” The shorter teen looks at him. 

“What.”

“Smile a bit more. Can’t have you being all depressed now, can we. We got ‘Kawa working with Sawamura but who knows how good he is with others besides his team. 

“Oikawa Tooru brings out the best of anyone he is wi-”

“I wasn’t asking you, stalker.” Kuroo sends a playful smirk Ushijima’s way and it looks like the guy has a Mona Lisa smile on. Bokuto lets out a laugh. 

Y-you called him  _ stalker _ !” Bokuto laughs, bumping Kuroo then Ushijima with his shoulders. “So, Stalker-chan. How long until we’re back at the building?”

“Three minutes.”

“Nice.”

They talk about random things for three minutes, that random thing being volleyball. How is this place’s gym going to be like? What’s the average height? How are the other players? Do they like to do practice matched with highschools sometimes because there are more high schools than colleges, like the matches Shiratorizawa would have?

“Thank the gods you three are back!” The lady manning the desk says, the same one who had greeted all five of them when they first step foot into the building. “Your two other roommates ran up the stairs almost an hour ago. They looked quite distressed. I hope you’re able to calm them down if they haven’t.”

They take the elevator this time.

When they reach the apartment, they don’t have to unlock it. There are no thoughts about reprimanding whoever left it unlocked. On the ground right inside the apartment-dorm is a single key hanging from a plain ring. 

One by one, they look through the rooms until they reach one at the end of the hallway. Kuroo carefully opens the door, earning that honor since he mentally decided himself to be more emotionally competent than the two aces. 

He spots a head of brown hair. He looks over his shoulder and waves away Bokuto and Ushijima. Bokuto hesitates but Ushijima gently grabs his shoulder and leads him to the living room. Kuroo enters the room, closing the door behind him with a soft  _ click _ . 

“Hey, Oikawa?” He says and the setter looks up from the other side of the bed in the corner, brown hair turning into a face. The teen smiles in relief. 

“Kuroo” he sighs. The former Nekoma captain walks closer to him and he sees, of course, that Daichi is also there. There’s a phone which Kuroo recognizes as Daichi’s from the icecream place. 

Oikawa is sitting against the wall, the space looking a bit cramped. Daichi is curled up in the corner, head resting on Oikawa’s shoulder, one hand loosely clutching his shirt. His eyes are closed. 

“Is he asleep?” Oikawa smiles and he nods. “We, uh, brought food back for him. Should we wake him up?”

“No” Oikawa softly says, tenderly looking at Daichi as if he would break in his sleep. “Can you help me get him on the bed though?” Kuroo nods and he helps take Daichi’s weight off of the brunette and then the two of them somehow manage to put him on the bed. 

“I’ll go grab my blanket and pillow.” Oikawa smirks. 

“What sort of blanket and pillow? Hello Kitty?” Kuroo rolls his eyes. He looks over Daichi one last time and notices that he’s still wearing his shoes. He carefully takes those off and takes them with him and exits the room. He walks to the living room, thanking himself for his poor packing skill which will make the search for the blanket so much easier. He tosses the shoes beneath the couch, right by all the boxes. 

He might of also temporarily forgotten about Bokuto and Ushijima’s existence. 

“So?” Bokuto asks immediately when he enters the room. “How is he?” 

“Asleep” Kuroo answers, opening his first box only for it to be the wrong one. “I’m looking for my pillow and blanket so he doesn’t have a bad neck in the morning.” The next box also doesn’t have what he’s looking for. “He was asleep on Oikawa when I walked in. I’ll have in explain everything ‘cause I don’t know what happened.”

The third box is the charm and he takes the red blanket with black cats patterned across it with a matching pillow to where Daichi is. He and Oikawa work together to make the guy comfortable. He sees Oikawa run his hand through Daichi’s hair one last time before lighty petting his head. So Oikawa really is good with people, not just with those on his team. The phone has been picked up from the ground and put on the dresser. 

“Come on” Kuroo says. “We want to know what happened.” Oikawa nods. 

“Sure. I’m going to bed afterwards, though. Pretty tired after all that food and everything after that.”

They close the door behind them, Oikawa walking faster than usual to reach the living room. He flops onto the couch and he immediately breaks into a retelling of what had happened. 

Daichi was super panicky, breaking down. He had called his best friend, the setter from Karasuno (no, not the grumpy faced one. Mr. Refreshing. The one with silver hair. Sure, the cute one). The two of them, together, managed to get him to calm down. He ended up falling asleep sometime in the middle of a story of Kageyama struggling to learn a type of set. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but feel that Oikawa was leaving something out. Something very important. He lets it be. 

For the second time that day, they all lament the absence of a TV. Oikawa goes to bed, but the trio stay up until eleven draining Ushijima’s laptop’s battery looking up videos of their university’s volleyball team matches from last year.  _ Then  _ they went to bed, Kuroo falling asleep on the couch since he guesses it’ll be better than just a mattress, Bokuto and Ushijima taking the beds in the second two-person room. 

* * *

Daichi awakes with a small amount of light floating through the window and something digging into his thigh. He sits up, lightly groaning, holding a hand up to press against his temple where a small headache decided to conveniently form. 

Standing, he makes his way to the window, the curtains already pushed outside. It’s still dark outside, butto his right, he sees a little corner of light. Dawn. Right before sunrise. He puts his hand in his pocket, pulling out his wallet, the source of his thigh pain. 

Oh yeah. Yesterday happened. 

He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, sitting back down on the bed. He doesn’t recognize the blanket or the pillow, but he has a guess who they belong to based on the cat print on it. He should find Kuroo and give them back to him without waking him up. 

So, last night. He got verbally beat in the ground because it was a fluke that he got the scholarship. He felt kind of numb. He ran out the building. Oikawa ran after him (he hopes his knee is alright, running without stretching or anything). He curled up in the corner. He called someone? And then he cried, a lot. And he fell asleep.  _ T-tell him about Kageyama’s first time using tempos with Hinata.  _ He thinks he called Suga? 

There’s no way he’s going to sleep now. 

He looks over at the second bed as he stands and he smiles when he sees that it’s Oikawa. The setter is facing him, brown hair messily spread over his eyes, mouth hanging open, drool coming out, a leg hanging off the bed. It’s cold in the room and his feet aren’t even under the blanket. He mentally tuts and moves Oikawa’s leg back onto the bed, closes his mouth, and covers both of his feet. He spies his phone on the dresser and takes that, happy to see that the battery isn’t drained. Then he grabs Kuroo’s blanket and pillow and heads to the living room to find his shoes. He has a plan.

Conveniently, he sees his shoes nearly immediately. They’re by the boxes, one of them upright, the other resting on it’s side. Kuroo is also fast asleep on the couch his shoes were behind. The lanky guy was partially curled, head resting on the crook of his elbow, knees hanging off the couch so that his legs aren’t inclined up the armrest. As carefully as he could without waking him up, Daichi replaced Kuroo’s arm with the pillow, quickly checking to see if the circulation was cut off for too long. He covers him with the blanket, smiling when he sees that there’s a cat face embroidered on the side of his pantleg. The room to the single person room had been open, so he’s willing to bet that Bokuto and Ushijima were in the other room. They’ll be fine. 

He quickly looks down at himself. It’s the same clothes as yesterday, a bit rumpled but adequate for a quick trip. Taking his key from the coffee table, he goes to the kitchen, quickly turning the tap on to splash water on his face, rubbing below his eyes and letting the water drip from his chin and nose before drying whatever's left with his sleeve. 

Time to go. 

Daichi unlocks the apartment, quietly locking it behind him. Now he feels the shame burning in him. He allowed Oikawa of all people to see him so weak. He’s barely even knows the guy! But now, he feels close to him just because of what happened yesterday. And he definitely owes all four of them. 

The attendant isn’t at her desk. He eyes the door. He knows he won’t be able to open it from the outside, and he doesn’t know if she’ll even be down by the time he gets back. He opens the door, happy that there isn’t an alarm or anything, and he takes off his shoes. He puts one inside the building and uses the other one to keep the door from closing. 

It takes him two minutes to reach the closest store. It takes another ten minutes for it to open. Then another ten minutes for him to get what he needs. He decides that if all of them are living together, they can probably take turns getting groceries. It’s his choice to take the first shift. It’s also his choice to spend so much money. 

He grabs a cart and decides to slowly make his way from one end of the store to the other. He’s gone shopping on his own numerous times when his mom had to spend more time at work or she had to travel to another city for business. He grabs the items which he knows will taste good and has good quality while being reasonably priced. There are some brands which he doesn’t recognize, one difference between Miyagi and Tokyo, but he takes a chance. 

When he finally reaches the cash register, the only one out of four that is manned by a sleep-deprived looking teen, he gently smiles when the guy gives him a shocked look and a startled “good morning”. He ends up buying a non-stick pan, five pairs of cutlery,a steamer, a sauce pan, a normal and a serrated knife, can opener, a cheap plastic cutting board, a saucepan, and a cooking utensils set. He got all of those fifty-percent off because they were from the same brand, just his luck. 

In terms of actual food, he decided to be more indulgent. This is going to last them a while and he plans on getting a part-time job relatively soon, so there’s no point in being skimpy. Nearly living on his own for three years plus supporting a team since his second year has taught him the ways of life. 

There’s a half-gallon of regular milk and a half-gallon of chocolate milk. A plastic jug of some sugary american brand orange juice plus a container of instant coffee and assorted tea bags. Miso, soy sauce, wasabi. Vegetables, some canned pastes, canned fruits, herbs, cheap spices. A small bag of rice, dried noodles. And because he wanted to treat the guys (and himself), a dozen raw steamed buns and milk bread because he somehow only knows Oikawa’s favorite because of that stupid volleyball magazine. 

After using a large portion of the cash he had in his wallet, he realizes something. 

There is no way he’s going to be able to take all of this in one go. 

“Um, question” Daichi asks the guy manning the cashier. “I live a two minute walk from here so I didn’t take a car or anything and you see how much stuff I bought” he says with a smile, keeping his composure. “Can you watch over my things? I think going back and forth, it’ll only take me half an hour to take everything.”

The guy nods. 

“Sure. Go ahead. Are you a university first-year?”

“Ah, that obvious?” Daichi agrees. “I moved into my dorm yesterday. I decided to go shopping and buy us some food and cooking essentials, since it’ll be cheaper than eating out all that time.”

“True true. But five in the morning?” Oh. He spent an hour here? No worries. Everyone should be asleep and he didn’t feel a buzz from his phone. 

“I fell asleep early yesterday. I think all of my roommates stayed up pretty late so they shouldn’t be up for a while.” The guy nods. 

“Good for you. Good for you.”

The first thing Daichi takes is the cooking equipment. As in  _ all of it _ . And he regrets it fifteen seconds in because all of that metal is heavy. But this is why he did that. It’ll be faster if he just takes all of it and everything else is lighter, so it’ll make sense if he exerts himself carrying all of this. And he can replenish his energy on the walk back. 

His shoes, thank the gods, are still there. The socks on his feet keep them from chilling on the hard ground, but he had to be careful of any hard, potentially injurious object littering the sidewalk. He has to set down a bag to get his key out, making sure not to relish too long in the light feeling the muscles of his right arm suddenly gained. He doesn’t make any noise and nobody is awake yet. It’s still technically sunrise, the sky not yet the lightest blue it can be. 

Kuroo doesn’t stir at the light clinking of metal when he sets everything down in the kitchen, four plastic bags, some of them doubled-up or even tripled-up to support the weight inside. He would of been screwed if any of them broke. And his foot probably would of been the items’ victim. 

He quickly exits again, jogging back out, not locking the door this time. They’ll probably start waking up seven if their internal clock remained the same from not even a week ago. He nearly runs all the way back to the store and there are a more people out then before, most of them wearing athletic clothing or hoodies, set out for their morning run or bike. He ignores the stares that are drawn to his feet, choosing to wave and send a cheery “good morning!”. 

It takes two more trips until he has all the stuff, the last load being four bags: two with vegetables, condiments, and spices, the others being the two half-gallons of milk and the juice. The latter two were in bags that were reinforced with our more bags. 

When he enters the building again, he slips his shoes on, eyeing the bottom of his socks which have turned from light grey to black. He’ll have to put those in the wash as well as probably lay light on his feet for a day or two. He should of gotten his spare pair of casual shoes out. 

Everyone is still asleep when he locks the door behind him and pads over to the kitchen. He needs to put the milk, juice, and steamed buns in the fridge. He should hide the milk bread somewhere as a surprise and so that Oikawa doesn’t eat all of it at once. Then put the coffee and tea on the counter. Ooh, he should get some water boiling in the sauce pan so that whoever wants coffee or tea can enjoy that. This reminds him of the pre-tournament sleepovers he’d host at his house. Making breakfast in the morning, getting started with the drinks first. Surprisingly, Noya would be the one to wake up first and he was surprisingly  _ amazing  _ at cooking eggs-

EGGS!

He lets out an audible gasp just as he finished filling the pot up with water. There is no way they can have breakfast with eggs. And not just breakfast, but also other sorts of foods! They need a source of protein and he can’t afford to get meat yet because of how many people he lives with now and he doesn’t know when he’d need cash for some emergency, but  _ EGGS! _

He quickly looks at the stove, happy that it’s electrical. No risk of some sort of fire. He turns it on to medium, watching the black start to turn red. He grabs the pot of water and hurries over, putting it on. He has to pause for a few moments after putting the pot on because he thinks about the cups. They’re paper. Can paper cups hold hot water? Then he thinks about the places Karasuno would stop by on their way to Tokyo, be it for a tournament or for a practice match, and Suga would always order tongue-burning hot chocolate in a to-go  _ paper  _ cup. 

He turns the knob on the stove  _ juuuust  _ a little. By the time he comes back, the water should almost be at a boil. Less than a minute if he runs, two minutes at most to get the eggs and pay for them, less than a minute to run back while being careful with the eggs. 

Game plan complete. 

He slips his shoes on again and rushes out the door, only closing it a little. If someone breaks in, then he doesn’t have to wake Kuroo up. 

When he comes back, no one’s awake.  _ Again _ . He’s barely even panting after that run, although his throat does feel a bit abused from the cold air and his skin is chilled and cold. Not at all proper clothes for the cold morning. Why is it so cold! It’s summer! It’s five-twenty in the morning now. He watches the water form little bubbles at the bottom, only one or two of them floating to the top every minute or so. He messes around by adjusting the sleeves of his white shirt, untucking the little that was still tucked into his pants, taking his socks off and putting them in his shoes. 

One by one, he carefully gets out all of the cooking supplies out of the bags, making sure to make as little noise as possible. He puts the cutlery on the table, sees that the water has started to boil, and he reduces the heat so that when everyone finally wakes up, all he needs to do is turn the knob a bit and the water will be back at a boil. And then he thinks about it. 

_ I can get the rice done. It’ll be easy enough to get them onto the bo- _

He forgot bowls. And plates. 

He looks at the water in the saucepan and then the bag of rice on the counter. Taking on of the freshly opened knives, he makes a niche in the plastic, putting the knife down and opening the back. A quarter of the bag will be good for all five of them, considering their appetites. He reduces the water based off of that and pours the necessary amount of rice in, watching the grains drown. Some salt and he reduces the heat, putting the lid back on. It’s quarter to six now. He has lots of time. He can walk to the store, get a set of bowls (they can deal with plates later). 

It’s still cold outside. He puts his socks and shoes on,  _ again _ , opens his duffel bag and takes out is Karasuno volleyball club jacket, the cloth permanently mildly smelling like air salonpas and the air freshener Suga and Asahi would never fail to spray the club room with. 

It takes a little bit longer to choose a proper bowl set. He instead of the five pack, he got two sets of four because, hehe: buy 1 get one 50% off, and also he doesn’t know if they’ll ever have guests over and he doesn’t know if anyone is clumsy enough to break the glass bowls. The walk back is leisurely and he made sure to stay in the store a little bit longer to make sure he has everything and doesn’t have to go back  _ again  _ to get something as simple as bowls. He’s happy to see that there’s a half asleep person manning the desk so the door was unlocked. The elevator music was soothing and he didn’t really expect the noise when he entered the apartment. 

“Where did this rice come from?”

“I don’t know! There wasn’t any utensils yesterday. Oh my gods, did someone come in in the middle of the night? That’s just creepy.” 

Daichi holds the back with one hand as he slips his shoes off and closes the door, locking it. Kuroo is poking the cutlery he set on the table before leaving (again), and he guesses Ushijima is with the rice. 

“It’s done. I’m taking it off the stove.” 

Kuroo snorts. His back is to Daichi. 

“How the heck are we going to eat rice? I mean, it’s not like I’m complaining, but plain rice for breakfast?”

“There’s also tea and instant coffee. I checked the refrigerator and there are also vegetables, liquids, eggs, and fruit inside of it. We have also been provided with other cooking materials.”

“But how will we eat it after we make everything else? Just pile it on the sauce pan and nom nom at the same time with five pairs of chopsticks.”

“. . .We could use the cups?”

Daichi finally decides to let himself be known, letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Don’t worry. I forgot to get the bowls so I went out. There’s a really nice sale going on at the store down the street.” Kuroo turns around and Ushijima’s head pokes out of the kitchen. Both of them are dressed in their night clothes still, Kuroo’s hair looking exactly the same. Kuroo’s eyes widen and his face splits into a grin. 

“So  _ that’s  _ why I woke up with my pillow and blanket! I didn’t remember stealing it back in the middle of the night.” And he launches himself at Daichi, long limbs wrapping themselves around him in a tight hug. Tight, but not too tight. Comforting. “You all right?” He says pulling away after a few seconds. 

Daichi raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He ducks under Kuroo’s arm, which feels pretty weird because why does he have to live with people who are either above or just about the same height as Tsukishima?

He puts the bowls down on the kitchen counter. Ushijima looks inquisitively at Daichi as he takes the bowls out, ripping through the cardboard that held the set together. 

“Good morning” Ushijima says. 

“Good morning.” He lays the bowls out, five, and puts the other three into the hanging cabinet right next to the fridge. 

“Did you get all of this?”

“Yeah” it’s still pretty early in the morning but the only ones who are still asleep are Oikawa and Bokuto so it’ll be alright if he makes a little noise. But he kind of wants Oikawa to get more sleep. He doesn’t know for how long the guy was with him, comforting him, even if he was asleep. “I woke up a bit after four and I was pretty hungry, so I went and got stuff for breakfast. Don’t worry about paying me back: this is for all of us. We need to learn how to live together.”

“Marry me Sawamura” Kuroo says. 

“I thought you were setting me up with Ushijima?” The olive-eyed ace lets out a warm, deep laugh. 

“You have done more than enough, Daichi-kun” Ushijima says. “I can continue making breakfast. It will be good practice for me. I am majoring in the culinary arts, after all.” Daichi looks surprised. 

“I didn’t think that you’d be majoring in that. Maybe something more like. . . .volleyball?” This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to let out a laugh. 

“You can’t get a degree in volleyball, I think! Aw, dang. I need to record both of your guys’s interactions at all times. You’re just adorable, Sa’amura. No offense, Ushiwaka.”

“None taken.”

Daichi narrows his eyes. 

“Are you implying that you have recorded me before?” Kuroo nods, sleep-addled brain making him oblivious to thinking about any potential consequences. 

“Yeah, the whole icecream shop thing with the list of how to make friends. Got the whole thing. I even sent it to Bokuto and he has it saved somewhere for backup.” Daichi just blinks at him and he thinks Kuroo’s expecting him to get angry at him, or at least annoyed. But he spent a whole training camp with him and Bokuto, the two of them constantly badgering him about wasting time by taking a break when he can be tossing balls to them. “But that’s in the past” Kuroo waves and he grabs Daichi’s arm, leading him to the couch. “You, mister I-woke-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn, should get some rest. Ushiwaka and I’ll take care of breakfast and waking up the brats.”

“Can I go change first?” Kuroo eyes him. He’s wearing his Karasuno jacket but he can see the black slacks and has a good guess as to what’s under the jacket. But still: 

“No.” And he pushes him onto the couch, lazily but precisely draping the cat patterned blanket over him. “Just relax.” He hesitates and then pats Daichi on the head before going to join Ushijima. 

The blanket is really soft. 

* * *

Oikawa pokes his nose out the doorway. He was going to sleep some more but he could see the sunlight through his eyelids and opening them revealed that Daichi wasn’t in his bed. A random thought that passes through his head is that he finds it endearing that it’s Daichi who’s the first to insist that they call him by his first name rather than the standard last. For someone who seems so orderly but pleasantly soft, it was quite a surprise. He’ll let him call him Tooru-chan, then. It’s only fair since Iwa-chan doesn’t call him that. 

Anyway, nose. The hallway smells good. And across the wall, the other two-person room’s door opens and Bokuto even pokes his head out, eyes wide and alert, hair messy and blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

They look at each other. 

And they open their mouths. 

“I smell food” they say at the same time and the two of them are racing down the hall, shoulders bumping until they reach the large living room/entryway/ kitchen space. The dining table in the space between the bar and living room is set with cutlery and bowls. The sounds of something cooking comes from the living room as well as two people talking. Kuroo moves into view, still talking, putting a container of instant coffee and a box of something on the table. 

“FOOOOOOOOOOOOD!” Bokuto yells, leaping out of the hall. Oikawa yawns and stretches.

“Good morning everyone!” He sings, poking Bokuto in the back before he gets to far, snickering at the boy’s yelp. 

“You two are finally up for brunch” Oikawa hears Daichi muse and his head snaps to the side, eyes pinpointing onto the couch where Daichi is sitting, turned over with his arms folded on top of the couch, looking at the three of them. Kuroo was probably talking to him, then. 

“Dai-chan!” Oikawa exclaims, walking over. “Good morning. Are you okay?” Daichi nods. 

“Thank you for last night. I don’t remember much but you helped me out a lot so. . .thank you, Oikawa.” 

Oikawa holds up a peace sign. “Please. We’re going to be family now! You have us call you Daichi so you have to call me Tooru-chan.” He proudly finishes. Daichi’s nose crinkles. 

“That’s just weird.” Oikawa pouts. 

“What?”

“I’ll just stick with Oikawa, then.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Okay, Tooru.” The word is slow to come on his tongue. “Wow, that feels weird. You’re either Oikawa-senpai or the Great King. I don’t think I’ve ever said your first name before.” He muses. 

Bokuto has hopped over to the kitchen, standing on his toes so that he can look over Ushijima’s shoulder, resting his chin on the guy’s shoulder, blinking down at the boiling pot of water and a pan of fried eggs being made. Ushijima tilts his head just a bit to his left, raising an eyebrow at Bokuto. Bokuto looks up at Ushijima and grins. 

“Even your night clothes have owls on them?”

“Even your night clothes are purple?” Ushijima’s gaze softens and he turns back to the eggs. Bokuto gives Ushijima a quick hug around the waist before pulling away. “What’s the water for?”

“Ah, can you pour those into the cups? It’s for whoever would prefer tea or coffee over orange juice or milk.”

“Hmm milk.” Kuroo purrs. “Hey, Sawamura: which flavors did you get?”

“Plain and chocolate. They’re in the fridge.” Bokuto and Kuroo’s eyes shine. 

“Daichi, you’re a  _ god _ ” Bokuto reverently says. Kuroo nods along with him. 

“Here here.” Kuroo slinks to the kitchen, crowding the space now that three people are in the small space. He opens the fridge, the door nudging Bokuto’s leg, and he gets out the chocolate milk. The bowls on the table are already filled with rice, a spare bowl heaped with extras. “Toshi, don’t you think Daichi’s also a god?”

“I immensely respect his abilities.”

“What about you, Oikawa?” Kuroo sets the milk down on the table, opening the lid so that he can get the plastic seal out. Ushijima turns the burner for the water off and Bokuto carefully pours the water into cups. 

Oikawa shrugs. “Milk can never be as good as-”

“Milk bread?” Daichi gets up as Oikawa’s eyes widen. 

“No.  _ No way _ .” Daichi walks to the fridge and stands on his toes, reaching back and pulling something out before tossing it to Oikawa, the object pathetically making a sad  _ plop  _ sound as it lands in Oikawa’s slightly outstretched arms. 

Kuroo lets out a whistle. “There it is. Our favorite roommate is now Sawamura and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.”

“Eat it sparingly” Daichi sagely advises. “One day, the milk bread will be gone, and you will rue that day.” Oikawa looks down at the plastic wrapped collection of golden joy. He hugs it to his chest. 

“Thank you so much! I have to text Iwa-chan about this!” He skips back to the living room where the phones are charging next to the laptop on the floor next to the empty space where they all hope that there someday will be a TV. 

“Brunch is done.” Ushijima says. 

“What time is it anyway?” Bokuto asks. 

“Nine something.” Daichi answers. “The rice was done for a while so we had to reheat it, but Ushijima somehow knew the perfect time to get started. He made some sort of fancy vegetable thing.”

“Do we have anything to use as coasters?” Ushijima asks, turning the stove off and taking the fried eggs and slowly cooling vegetables with him. 

“Oh oh oh!” Bokuto runs to the living room and gets Kuroo’s blanket, folding it and putting it on the middle of the table. “Insta-coaster!” 

Kuroo’s eyes the blanket. “Should I yell at you or praise you?”

“Praise me, bro.” 

“Okay. Good job bro.”

“Thanks!”

The table is quickly set. There are only four chairs but luckily, the bathroom converted to a study nook has two chairs. And Bokuto decided to grab both of them, placing them at the longer ends of the table. The coffee and tea tins are quickly opened. Milk is poured and vegetables are expertly placed on top of rice, followed by two fried eggs per person. Daichi grins at the food and he can already see Kuroo eyeing the leftover fried eggs. 

“Thank you for the fo-” they all start off sync but then there’s a knock on the door. Ushijima sighs and gets up. 

“I’ll go get the door. Perhaps it is the mail.”

Oikawa, meanwhile, has tightened his grip on his utensils.  _ I’ll be there tomorrow _ .  _ I’ll see you tomorrow. Suga-kun _ . Sugawara Koushi. He was coming from Miyagi to Tokyo for Daichi. He saic his train would reach Miyagi at five in the morning. And it’s  _ nine _ in the morning. It’s a three to four hour ride. . .

He looks over to Daichi. Although he seems fine he seems a bit jittery still, his eyes moving around too much. He just said he was fine. Iwa-chan never let him use the word fine when he’d ask him how he was feeling- fine doesn’t describe anything. 

“ _ Oikawa, what did you do _ ?” Kuroo, ever observant, hisses from his right. Oikawa manages a shaky grin. He watches Daichi pour some of the hot water from one cup into another, put some coffee in it, mix with a chopstick to make it dissolve faster, then pour chocolate milk into it. He’ll have to remember that. 

“Ushiwaka?” A shocked voice comes from the doorway and Oikawa can pinpoint the exact moment that Daichi remembers that segment of last night.

* * *

Suga grins as he walks down the hall with a skip to his step. He checked himself out in the mirror on the train and there isn’t even a single hint of a shadow under his eyes! He is the indomitable Sugawara Koushi, future setter of Miyagi Central University, a forty minute drive away from Karasuno with average traffic. He wears a light blue shirt with grey athletic shorts, his wallet and phone in his pocket, and a backpack on his back filled with a spare charger, more money, a spare change of clothes in case something happens, and volleyball shoes and kneepads. He’s going to spend the whole day with Daichi! Just him and his best friend, and also Bokuto, and maybe his other mysterious roommates if they’re interested in volleyball. 

Oh, his  _ roommates _ . An evil thought crosses Suga’s mind. He knows last night isn’t their fault and one of them comforted him, but he can still rain hell down on them. Suga style. 

He passes by a room with vending machines, washing and drying machines, bookshelves and computers. He passes by the door to the stairwell and tow residential apartment-dorms, both of them looking a bit small and with only two or three names in the little plastic holders. And then he reaches the last one, at the end of the hallway and offset from being across one of the smaller apartment-dorms. Seems like his kouhais research was correct: it is a large apartment. And he looks at the name slots and furrows his brow. 

Five names. Wow, that’s a lot of roommates. He recognizes Daichi’s name already, characters written in black ink both in kanji and in roman characters. There’s one more name in black and the other three are colorful. One name is in red, the other in shiny gold, and the other in thick, metallic teal with a smiley face drawn in the corner. 

He can’t wait to see Daichi! He can’t wait to see his roommates! He can’t wait to threaten them to take care of Daichi or else face death! He can’t wait to see Bokuto again and chat with the guy! He can’t wait for  _ anything _ !

Deep breathes. Okay. Calm down. He raises a first and knocks three times on the door, nice and firm. He hears some noise coming from inside. He hears footsteps and for some moment, dread starts to form in his mind and he wonders whether this is actually Daichi’s room or not. 

The door opens and it feels like he’s in a movie. He blinks once, then twice, his eyes meeting soft looking purple-grey cloth. He tilts his head up and he meets the guy’s mildly confused olive eyes. The first thing that comes to his mind is, surprisingly:  _ Wow. I did not expect him to have weird bedhead _ . And then the  _ second  _ thing he notices is whose bedhead exactly he’s mentally commenting on. 

“Ushiwaka?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The arrival of Refresh-"  
> "Oikawa, read the script correctly."  
> "You're such a bore, Dai-chan!"  
> "The arrive of Sugawara-kun"  
> *looks at Ushijima*  
> "No need to be so formal, Toshi"  
> "Bokuto. . ."  
> "BOkUtOOOO"

Daichi blinks at the familiar voice which he last heard, only semi-lucidly, not so long ago. 

“Oh, about last night” Oikawa tries to nonchalantly fit in while Kuroo and Bokuto get up to see who their new guest is “I forgot to tell you that Refreshing-kun is dropping by for the day.” Bokuto, Kuroo, and Daichi stare at Oikawa. 

“I think I recognize you” Ushijima says from the doorway. “May I ask you what business you have being here?”

“So,  _ you two _ ” he points at Bokuto and Kuroo. “Stay put. I’ll go clear things up.” And he rushes away and Daichi looks like he’s in a sort-of daze. With only a moment of hesitation, he keeps himself from turning around and leaning to look at the door, choosing to drink his caffeinated chocolate milk. Wise man. 

He skips to the door and nearly pushes Ushijima to the ground, the man not resisting being squished against the closet door so that Oikawa can greet their guest. The brunette smiles, fingers raised in the peace symbol. 

“Hello, Refreshing-kun!” 

Suga blinks. He takes a hesitant step backward. 

“Is this a dream?” The silverette muses, eyes slightly narrowed. “I thought this was Daichi’s place.” Oikawa leans out the doorway to point at the names on the wall. 

“Yup!” He pokes a finger at the black characters written on a slip of paper, protected by plastic. “Sawamura Daichi. You’re at the right place. I was the one on the phone last night, by the way.” 

Suga blinks again. 

“Oikawa, I would greatly appreciate it if you would release me from my position against the closet door?” Suga looks at Ushijima again and he crosses his arms, pointing with two fingers at both Oikawa and Ushijima. 

“There is  _ no way _ that you two are living together. What goes on in this place anyway? It must be chaotic.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, can I come in?” Back at the table, Daichi mutters to himself “It’ll only be chaotic when you see the other two” and proceeds to chug down the remainder of his drink. 

Suga steps inside, Ushijima closing the door behind him while Oikawa leads the way.

“Welcome to our humble abo-” he starts before he is so rudely interrupted by a certain cat. 

“ _ BRO! _ ” Kuroo exclaims. 

“Bro!” Bokuto echoes, the two of them swarming around Suga. Daichi can already feel the anxiety creeping in. Oikawa hums something before joining Daichi back at the table, taking a piece of milk bread. 

“You’re Refreshing-kun. . .he does seem nice.” Oikawa says. Daichi nods. 

“Yeah. He is.” 

Suga is trying to deal with Bokuto and Kuroo. Not them themselves, but the information he’s getting right now. Both of them are talking at high speeds and are often using a sequence of “ho ho”s. Because what does this mean?

He was greeted at the door by Ushijima Wakatoshi. Who was in his night clothes and with bed head that’s almost at Kuroo’s level, although it seems like he’s been awake for a while now. 

Then Ushijima was casually sandwiched against the wall by Oikawa Tooru.  _ Oikawa _ . The guy who pretty much all of the first years held a grudge against for some reason, who Tanaka glowered at, who was pretty annoying, you could say. 

But the final cherry on top? All five of them are  _ captains _ . It’s like something that would happen in a manga except this is actually real. Seijoh, Shiratorizawa, Fukurodani, Nekoma, and Karasuno. 

Speaking of Karasuno, Daichi is wearing his Karasuno volleyball club jacket and he looks like he’s slowly dying. Oikawa looks amused while he stuffs his face full of what looks like bread?

“Daichi, how rude!” Suga pouts, spotting a pile of duffel bags on the ground by the door and decides to backtrack a bit so he can escape Bokuto and Kuroo’s grasps as well as toss his backpack there before marching to the table and cocking his hip, putting a hand on it. Daichi makes a mental note to make sure he and Oikawa never become friends.

“I take the morning train. I had to deal with an hour long phonecall from Hinata trying to explain why I was going to Tokyo without spilling the beans because apparently that boy and Kageyama are trying to team up and kidnap me or something.” He shakes his head. “ _ Then  _ I come here fully intent on comforting my best friend and you can’t even get out of your chair!?”

Daichi chooses to shrug. 

“I was up since four.”

“But. . .you’re okay, right?” His chocolate brown eyes are wide and honest and Daichi finds that he can’t really say what he wants to say. 

“I’ll tell you later.” This seems to be an appropriate answer because Suga sits down at the seat that was previously Kuroo’s, taking a spare bowl and he starts serving himself. The other four return back to the table, Kuroo momentarily whining before taking the seat next to Suga. 

“W’o made ‘is?” Suga asks with food still in his mouth, hand politely raised to hide his open mouth. Kuroo and Bokuto look at each other from across the table, a slow grin spreading across their faces. Kuroo leans over and rests an elbow on Suga’s shoulder. 

“Well, Sugawara-san” Kuroo smoothly says. “Our dearest Daichi decided to go out and get all our kitchen needs so early in the morning. Imagine the poor guy, running back and forth, valiantly preparing to meet our starving needs.”

“Swoon” Oikawa says, draping an arm over his forehead. Bokuto nods and pats the location of his heart with his hand. Suga has already started to grin, leaning closer to Kuroo as if the lack in distance will amplify the emotional outcome. Daichi wonders why his roommates decide to pick on him all the time. But then again, it’s only been a day. . .

“Anyway, Daichi, our knight in shining armor” Bokuto continues for Kuroo. “Poor guy is exhausted after all of that and he still goes back for little things he forgot. Like bowls. And the rice was on and our Kuroo and Ushijima saw this.”

“And then, Ushijima, like the good boyfriend material that he is” Kuroo says and Suga chokes on his breath, eyes widening, and Daichi has known that he might as well ascend to hell through murder. “Made Daichi rest on the couch and he cooked up the food for us!” And get this: he still looks  _ serious _ . There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face anymore. 

“That phonecall” Suga gasps. Daichi stiffens.

“I called Asahi” he says, eyes narrowing. “Ho-

“It was on speaker and we all met up again at the park some time after seeing you off. Asahi, poor guy. Don’t do things like this to him. But Tsukki was the one who noticed that Bokuto was one of your roomies” and then his eyes narrow, going cold, meeting Bokuto’s. “And we swore that day that at least we know  _ one  _ of you, and if something happened to Daichi. . .” he lets the threat linger in the air before he snaps back to his happy self. “We also heard something about a boyfriend, and I heard that word again~” he sings. 

“It’s just a joke” Daichi mutters but he’s smiling. “You call Tsukishima “Tsukki”? Trying to become like Yamaguchi?”

Suga shakes his head. “No, I’m just appreciating how adorable my kouhais are. The nickname just increases the adorableness.” His gaze turns towards Ushijima. “Now, Ushijima. No offense but you might be even more emotionally stunted than two my most emotionally stunted kouhais, so what are you intentions?”

“You’re embarrassing me” Daichi mutters, putting some more rice in his mouth. “And didn’t you come here to comfort me, not to tease me-  _ ack!” _ Suga slaps him on the back, a piece of rice falling back onto his bowl. Suga grins. 

“Daichi. I can do both.”

“I have the video!” Kuroo says. Daichi contemplates if it’s better that Suga is becoming friends with Kuroo rather than Oikawa. The preferred option would of been none, though. . .

Ushijima looks at Daichi from across the table and even the taller spiker looks very flustered, his chopsticks picking around his rice. 

Suga and Kuroo lean over the latter's phone and Suga is trying to control his laughter while discreetly looking up at Ushijima. 

“I can’t believe it” Suga wheezes. “The paper” he clasps a hand over his mouth. “I can’t believe it.” He bangs his hand on the table, back hunching as Kuroo joins in with the laughing. Daichi keeps his focus on the food but it’s getting a bit troublesome since he only has a few more grains left. He almost misses the complete topic change. 

“Anyway, that was fun. But that’s not what I’m here for. I may not be Asahi who hasn’t even taken any classes yet but I read up on my phone. What exactly happened last night?” Suga’s voice is serious and Daichi wonders when his friend has started to become so. . .commanding. Daichi immediately starts feeling something. Like there’s something crawling across his skin, weaving under it. It grasps at his throat, entwining around his windpipe, curling as a heavy weight in his gut. He’s done anyway. 

“Done” Daichi says, standing up. “I don’t need to be here for this. I’m going to go take a shower.” 

The five of them watch him go to the kitchen and then exit, not looking at them, going to his suitcase and quickly taking clothes and a towel out before going to the bathroom. They don’t hear the bathroom door slam shut but they know it’s closed. 

“That bad. . .” Suga mutters. “Oikawa filled me in on some of it, last night. But I’ve never seen something break him down like this. All of the times I’ve seen him cry can be counted on one hand and were either out of joy or because the season ended. So what happened to lead to what happened on the phone?” The silence that follows is filled in by the sound of the shower turning on. 

For the next twenty minutes, the four of them fill Suga in on what happened. Going to the director’s office. Learning why they were there (Suga’s face softened and a smile graced his lips when he learned of Daichi’s oncoming conditioning for libero). How that Aki had been glaring at Daichi the whole time and then he just  _ exploded  _ on him, ripping him apart from every angle. Insulting where h grew up, insulting his skill, insulting him and beating him down. Oikawa running after him. Kuroo having to be held back. Suga somehow found it in himself to laugh when Ushijima admitted to knocking Aki out with a tray of  _ rice _ . 

The shower is still on.

“First of all” Suga says “I’m sorry I ever doubted any of you. You guys, you’re good for him. He’s always been in a position of command and he really needs to lighten up. Sure, he’ll probably have to control you guys, but that’s how he naturally is. We all miss him back at home so it just makes me happy that the people he’s ended up living with are people who he can trust. Thank you.”

Bokuto rubs the back of his neck. “Well, thanks. I don’t really think I’ve been much he-”

“You’re like Hinata.” Suga says. “You just have to be there. You’re a happy guy. Your positivity alone makes you helpful. Don’t ask me how many times I’ve Daichi smile after scolding Nishinoya and Tanaka for their antics.” Bokuto grins at the compliment, even though he has no idea who Nishinoya or Tanaka are. Probably teammates. First years, he’s going to guess. 

“Thank you, Sugawara-kun” Ushijima says. “Although we will eventually be able to properly be of emotional aid to Daichi in any situation that may arise, you are the closest to him. It would be best if the two of you conversed privately.” 

Suga blinks at Ushiima’s words but he smiles back at him. 

“I don’t doubt it” he says, getting up. Bokuto points out the bathroom to him and Suga heads to it, leaning against the wall, waiting for Daichi to come out while watching the four at the dining table. He never would of put the five of them together as roommates. From what he’s heard, Oikawa hates Ushijima, Bokuto and Kuroo are chaotic together, and Daichi is the poor soul who has to keep them from killing each other. They have their quirks but in the end, they fit together. It may not be perfect, but the five of them will soon work together so well. He saw the duffels by the door and he  _ knows  _ that the five of them also have the joy of being on the same team. He wonders, if somehow by chance, all five of them make it to the starting lineup. He can just imagine the incredulous looks on anonymous faces, the five first years smirking as they dominated the court, shadowing the sixth player with their glory. 

And Daichi’s going to be a freaking libero. 

He barely hears the door open. Suga stands straight, turning and looking at Daichi. 

“Let’s go to a room” Suga says. Daichi nods, parts of his neck still shining with water that wasn’t attacked by a towel. Daichi leads the way and Suga can tell that he’s too tense. He closes the door behind them, the brunette sitting down at the edge of a bed free of a pillow, blanket, and sheets. Just a plain mattress unlike the other bed which has constellation print sheets put on already, a pillow with the same design, and a black blanket with green alien heads on it curled at the bottom of the bed. 

“That’s Oikawa’s” Daichi says. “I’m just starting to realize that he’s probably more of a nerd than you are.” He grins at Suga. The silverette mock gasps and slaps his arm. 

“Just because I’m going into medical doesn’t mean I’m a nerd!” He knocks his shoulder into Daichi’s. “Anyway, I can’t wait to tell the team who you’re rooming with! Kageyama’s probably going to blow a fuse when he realizes that your guys’s setter is  _ Oikawa Tooru  _ of all people. Or, wait!” He rapidly shakes a finger at Diachi. “Ushiwaka! Hinata and Tobio were  _ there  _ for the boyfriend phone-call thing and when they learn it’s  _ Ushiwaka _ ” he cackles evilly. Daichi smiles. 

“Or, even better Suga. We’re all planning to basically tour on winter break. We’re going to drop by Nekoma first and then go to Fukurodani. From there we’re going to Shiratorizawa, Aoba Johsai,  _ then  _ Karasuno. So if you can keep a secret for a semester. . .” Suga’s eyes widen. 

“Oh my gods, that’s awesome!” He squeals. “Imagine everyone’s faces when you walk in with  _ Ushijima  _ of all people, and then Oikawa, and then everyone else! They’ll freak out! And all of you can be wearing your uniforms and Nishinoya is going to teach you Rolling Thunder and everything!” 

Daichi hums. “It can be like a little training camp.”

Suga’s eyes widen and he turns to and grabs onto Daichi’s shoulders, shaking him. “Training! Camp!” He says. “Host a training camp here! Invite Nekoma! Karasuno! Fukurodani! Seijou! Maybe not Shiratorizawa but that’s up to you!” A grin splits across Daichi’s face. 

“Then it’s up to you to drag Asahi and Shimizu.”

“Of course!” He exclaims. “We’re all going to visit Karasuno on-off. Asahi’s  _ definitely  _ going to because the alternative will be Nishinoya barging into class every day.”

“They’ll think he’s his little brother.”

“Exactly!” And then he slings an arm around his best friend, pulling Daichi close to him. 

“Um, Koushi? What are you doing?” He wraps another arm around the brunette. 

“Giving you a hug, of course. You’re one of those people who act like the words don’t affect you but then you think about then a  _ lot  _ when you think nobody’s looking. You know that if Asahi wer in your spot he would of broken down a thousand times over.” Daichi rests his head on Suga’s shoulder. He’s not really thinking about it but he can still feel the pain from when he heard those words. Heat prickles behind his eyes, tears fighting to escape. Some succeed. 

“Yeah” he croaks. “I really do need this hug.”

Daichi isn’t really a cryer. Even as a baby, according to his mom, he barely cried. It was worrisome, looking back, but she said that back then she had welcomed the silence. He got all the ugly tears out last night. Now it’s just the stragglers, the silent ones which just happened to be there. 

Daichi wraps his arms around Suga, putting most of his weight on his friend. 

They stay like that for a few minutes before Daichi manages to speak up. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see that bag. What are you planning on doing?” 

“Anything you want to, Daichi” he replies. “We can go out, chill with your roommates. Maybe unpack your stuff. Eat out. I also brought my kneepads and shoes.” A thoughtful look crosses across Daichi’s face. 

“I’m really happy you came, Koushi. And now that you’re here. . .that means we have six people. And two setters. We can play three on three. Akaashi followed Bokuto to university-”

“Wasn’t he a second year?” 

“Yeah.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah. So if he’s free we also have a sub. We can use the public gym so that anyone else can join us. I still can’t believe you took a train from Miyagi just to play  _ volleyball _ .” 

Suga pouts. “ _ Daichi _ ” he groans “You can at least be a bit grateful!”

“And you can stop lying about not having a hidden age-agh!” Koushi stabs into Daichi’s side with two fingers, causing the man to double over, almost black hair shining in the sunlight.

“Hah! Just what you deserve, Sawamura!” Suga exclaims, following up with a hard slap on the back. “Now lets go so that I can have food.” Daichi casts a withering look. Suga innocently smiles. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group make their way to the gym. Daichi and Ushijima technically get lost. Then they become kouhais and get a complimentary senpai for free and then they get lost. . .again.

The six of them eagerly walked to the gym, bags slung over their shoulder after having emptied them of anything unnecessary back at the apartment. Oikawa smiled at every girl that crossed their path and Kuroo was somehow able to keep pace with Bokuto’s excited bounces. Akaashi had texted back just when they reached the groundfloor that he’d be able to come, but he’s be there in around half an hour. He just finished his appointment his professor had scheduled concerning having a would-be third year highschooler in his class and he still has to change and get his stuff out. 

Ushijima had been confused and mildly uncomfortable at first. Anyone could tell. And by what? What could make the great Ushijima Wakatoshi uncomfortable?

The girls. 

They came from everywhere. 

And Daichi half wanted to join either Ushijima in his silent uncomfortableness or join Kuroo and Bokuto in their obliviousness- ah. Never mind. They also indulged a bit. Mainly it was Oikawa and Suga who would reel them in. 

He wasn’t really used to this. It was a new experience. Walking down the street dressed in shorts and a t-shirt with a group of five other admittedly good looking guys. He saw the looks that both girls and guys alike gave them. Lingering looks on Bokuto and Ushijima’s upper body, blushes and giggles at Oikawa and Koushi’s faces, shy looks when Kuroo’s gaze would turn their way. And then the uncomfortable feeling of them staring at his thighs as they passed by. He’s going to wear pants from now on. 

“Sawamura” Ushijima asks from next to him. “Are you also bothered by the, ah, attention?” Daichi stiffly nods, feeling a blush when an modestly clad student, probably a few years older than them, without even trying to hide it, looks him up and down. And then she checks her watch and turns around in the path so that she slowly starts to come closer and closer to the back of the group where Daichi and Ushijima walk. 

“This is getting creepy” Daichi mutters, instinctively walking just a little bit faster. 

“She’s moving faster” Ushijima warns. Daichi can’t even move in front of Ushijima or surround himself with his roommates because the sidewalk is kind of crowded, leaving barely any room for maneuvering. Oikawa and Koushi laugh about something, waving bye to a girl together with such an amount of similiariar. Their waves were quite similar and so was their laughs when Oikawa lets out a real laugh, which he’s doing right now. 

“Hey handsome” the girl coos, wrapping her arms around Daichi’s. His posture stiffens and the force causes him to slow down and gods he  _ recognizes  _ that voice. Although, last night, it had been alcohol addled and that face is that same face as that woman. “I remember you from last night. Are you still sad? I can make you happy~” she teases. “Awe, look at you. You’re so kawaii.” One of her hands sneaks up for his face and he cranes his head away and she strokes his jaw and neck and he has to hold back to nausea. 

“Excuse me” Ushijima says. “Can you please leave us?” The girl blinks owlishly at Ushijima. Daichi takes that chance to turn and use his other hand to try and get the girl off him as easily as possible but she catches her his hand in hers, tips stained yellow with nicotine. The smell of smoke wafts off her and she takes his arm and  _ licks it _ . 

“Get off me” Daichi chokes, finally tearing his arm away, heart beating too fast. She tries to cling back, a strange hunger in her eyes and now that he can see it, her pupils are dilated. Probably high, even at this time of day. 

Ushijima suddenly stops walking. He wraps an arm around Daichi’s shoulders, pulling him close, and even Daichi, from just the glane he had of Ushijima’s face, could tell that gaze was frightening. It was the same look he wore when they faced off that day, Shiratorizawa and Karasuno, two separate sides, one want. It was that look he had before he got ready for a spike, eyes burning and face set, power shining from every pore. That was determination. But now it’s anger. 

“Leave” Ushijima commands and the girl’s eyes widen before her face turns into a snarl. She mutters something derogatory but lets out a whimper when Ushijima’s gaze probably intensifies. With his arm still around Daichi’s shoulders, he makes them continue moving, leaving the girl behind. They’ve lost everyone else. 

“Thank you” Daichi says.

“May I ask why she acted as if she knew you?” 

“When I was running back to the apartment yesterday, I ran into them, and she latched onto me.” He shudders. “It wasn’t nearly as bad as today- she only had me for a second or two.” Ushijima is silent for a moment, contemplating what he’s going to say. Daichi expects maybe one or two sentences, but certainly not an entire monologue.

“Sawamura, allow me to tell you this” Ushijima says. “There are few people who have earned my full respect and trust. You earned my respect when you defeated my team and led yours to victory. You may seem yourself as someone who doesn’t matter, who doesn’t stand out, but that’s because you make others stand out. When we shook hands that day, that look in your eyes, I’ve never seen that in the eyes of any of my other foes. Usually it is fear, but you were determined. I thought you were cocky but thinking back, you were confident in your ability, in your team’s ability. 

“You earned my trust that way too. It was time for Karasuno to come back from the fallen. At the training camp, I was able to more personally observe your behavior and was pleased to see, after, that your mannerisms off and on the court remained the same. You care for your friends, and you protect them. Although it baffles me why you wouldn’t do the same for yourself, I will simply have to adapt to playing that part for you. The most important part of a team is trust. Most would think that trust would take a while to develop, that one gained is such a short amount of time is questionable, but trust grows on it’s own. It depends on the people.” He looks down at Daichi, arm shifting.

“Sawamura, I would like you to be confident again. You cannot allow others of no significance to trample over you. Bring the pride that you have on the court into your personal life. And if you can’t find yourself doing so at times, trust me. Or Kuroo. Or Bokuto. Perhaps Oikawa.” Daichi chuckles at this. 

“Thank you, Ushijima. I think this is the most amount of times I’ve been comforted by people.” Ushijima smiles. His smiles is naturally small, just like Kiyoko’s.” He finds that this actually is comfortable, walking next to Ushijima with his arm wrapped around him. He isn’t that tall that it’s uncomfortable to walk but he isn’t so short that it’s comedic.  _ Trust me _ . He rests his head on Ushijima’s shoulder and groans. 

“Today and yesterday have been so  _ strange _ .”

“I do believe that is the point of college.” Daichi lets out a laugh. 

“Hey, can you see Kuroo and his ridiculous hair? He’s the one with the map.” Ushijima’s eyes widen and quickly looks around, even looking backwards, as if they somehow got ahead of everyone. 

“I think. . .we are lost” the spiker manages at long last.

“Let’s hurry up with our walking” Daichi says, speeding up, Ushijima’s arm falling from his shoulders. The two quickly cut through the crowd and Daichi suddenly spots a spot uninhabited by people on the side. “I have an idea” Daichi says. “Ushijima, let’s head to that blank spot. You’re strong, right?”

Ushijima nods. “When I’d do push ups, my teammates would make it a game to see how many I could do with any one of them on my back. It was incentive for them to eat more food, I think. Tendou wouldn’t get off even after my arms gave out on me.”

A contemplative look crosses Daichi’s face. “I like this trust thing. Well then.” They reach the blank spot. “You’re going to have to hurry up now. Lift my up as high as you can.” Ushijima blinks. 

“I can simply have you sit on my shoulders” Ushijima says. “It would save us time, allow you to find Kuroo, as well as intimidate people from surrounding us.” Daichi eagerly nods before he could even think about the consequences. He can feel his sense of self-preservation slowly disappear. 

Ushijima kneels on the ground, adjusting his bag. Daichi slips one leg over, then another. Ushijima stands up as if there wasn’t even a weight on his back, firmly holding onto Ushijima’s ankles. Daichi bends over Ushijima’s head so that he can meet his olive eyes, grinning from his upside down view. 

“Am I heavy?”

“Only mildly heavier than perhaps Goshiki” Ushijima says. “You do have more muscle than him even though he is taller- ow” Daichi playfully hits Ushijima on the head as they enter the crowd. A lot of eyes are drawn up to them, a few phones even sneaking out to take a picture, but besides that, they really do get more walking room. 

“There!” Daichi points forward and Ushijima’s grip tightens on his ankles. It’s a more populous area of pavement and up ahead they can see the gym building. It looks as if Kuroo is frustrated, looking around a lot, while Bokuto looks close to a breakdown. Suga and Oikawa also look a bit frantic and Daichi grins. 

“I think they’ve realized we’re missing” he says. “They’re standing on the right. Go to the left and we can probably get by without them seeing us and get some our stretches done before one of those fools decide to call and ask where we are.” Ushijima nods. 

“On three, we will run. And we stop for no one.” Ushijima says.

“Even if someone gets in our way?”

“Especially.” That word is filled with the seriousness of a general leading an army onto the battlefield, but Daichi can’t help but snicker and that brings out a chuckle from Ushijima. Ushijima’s grip slides up so that he’s holding onto Daichi’s lower thighs. Daichi bends a bit so that he’s better balanced. 

“One” Ushijima starts as they slowly walk over to the left side of the pavement, Daichi still ridiculously visible but not spotted yet. Unknown to both of them and the four wondering where they are, there is someone watching from the other side of the street, slowly holding his phone up and pressing the  _ record  _ button. “Two” Daichi’s eyes narrow in anticipation and Ushijima readies his stance, walk turning into a jog. “THREE” and he’s running, full on  _ sprinting  _ and even though by a car’s standard they’re not going very fast, in human standards, yes. Ushijima is very much a fast runner, as proved when people dodge to the side. 

Ushijima is true to his word. He doesn’t stop for anyone. Daichi can’t help but let out a hysteric giggle and his head turns to the left and his eyes widen because standing across the street with a a hand over his mouth is none other Akaashi Keiji, his phone raised. He looks up and Daichi twists his torso to wave at Akaashi, Ushijima even momentarily turning at the shift in weight. He probably doesn’t even know how Akaashi looks like. He just sees a guy with a phone and waves before continuing with Daichi on his shoulders. 

The feeling of the wind on his face is amazing. The air in Tokyo has a different feel than in Miyagi. He can feel a heaviness in the air, none of the freeness that was there back home. It’s not as fresh and there’s a smell to the air here, but he’s sure he’ll get used to it. 

And it’s worth the view. Not even two meters away from Koushi’s back and none of them  _ see them.  _

So, of course, they don’t slow down. Ushijima takes him all the way to the gym. He gets off at the front doors and Daichi just stands there laughing, face turning red (and ears too, probably) while Ushijima just watches with a grin, teeth flashing. 

They don’t know how the locker rooms here work yet. There’s a shoe rack outside, with some slots already filled. The two quickly take their shoes off, slip on their kneepads, and slip on their volleyball shoes. It’s only been a few days and he already missed the feel of them. The gym is made up of three basketball courts, all of them occupied, while the fourth court has a volleyball net set up. There are two girls already there, upperclassmen by their looks, simply tossing the ball back and forth over the net. 

The two walk over there, finding a spot on the side to stretch and set their bags down. Daichi takes his phone out of his bag, putting it between his and Ushijima’s and putting it off of silent. The feeling of being here without the rest of his squad feels like he’s a kid sneaking down in the middle of the night for a midnight snack. They stretch for two minutes before Ushijima asks the question. 

“Will we be splitting the court or shall we join them?” Daichi looks over at the two girls who have moved over from simply tossing it over the net to one of them dumping the ball over the net while the other would try and receive. “We may not be sufficiently warmed up, but a two on two gain would do the same.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Daichi heads over to the closest girl who wears a t-shirt that seems to be an advertisement for an old fundraiser. He tries thinking about how to approach this before he just goes with the straight-and-simple plan. 

“Hello!” Daichi says with a wave. The girl turns her head and her eyes widen and she holds the ball, smiling. 

“Hello” she replies back, “How may I help you?”

“My friend and I, we were wondering if we could join you two?” The girl smiles.

“Are you sure you can keep up with us?” The girl from the other side of the net says, an evil grin on her face. “We’re third-years and we’re on the girl’s team, winner of last-years national tournament!” Daichi scratches the back of his neck. Third-years. Girls team. This will be good experience to see how much he needs to improve. 

“Yeah” he says. “My friend and I were accepted on the boys volleyball team.” Looks of surprise cross the two’s faces. 

“And who’s your friend?” The former asks. Daichi nods to behind her where Ushijima has finally decided to walk towards them. She’s around Daichi’s height, so when she turns, her head starts to tilt up so she can see Ushijima’s face. She whistles. And then she turns around to face Daichi, eyes wide. 

“Oh my gods, I am  _ so so so so so sorry _ ” she says, quickly bowing. Daichi takes a step back. 

“What do you mean?” He says. “You haven’t done anything wr-”

“No, my father!” She says. “His name is Aki and he’s pretty much a scumbag elitist who doesn’t know how people work. He came back home ranting about the scholarship kids.” The other girl gasps. 

“Oof, is this one of them?”

“What’s your name?” The girl, Aki, asks. And Daichi can’t really feel angry at her. Because here she is, the daughter of the man who pretty much messed up his entire view of himself with only a few seconds of words. 

“Sawamura Daichi” he says with a short bow. He nearly flinches when her hand comes down on his shoulder. 

“Well then, Sawamura-kun. I am now going to take you in as my kouhai!” She says proudly. “You’re going to by on  _ my  _ team!” Daichi takes a moment to really look at her: lightly tanned skin, narrow grey eyes, short bleached hair. She reminds him of Saeko-san. Then she turns around and points at Ushijima. “ _ You _ , on the other hand. You’re Ushijima, right?” Ushijima nods and the other girl goes to him, lightly kicking his shin while twisting her long brown hair into a ponytail. 

“Call me Hideyoshi-kun” she grins and Daichi takes that back- Ushijima got the girl who’s more like Saeko. “You’re going to be  _ my  _ kouhai now! I’ve seen some of your games on video and my lil’ bro who goes at another college had a practice match with you guys last year and I watched the Japan youth team games. You’re great: nice and powerful, but you need improvements on your technique.”

Ushijima blinks at her. 

“Don’t worry” Aki says. “Hideyoshi is our ace. And from the few videos I’ve seen, I think I can take him on. I’m a middle blocker but I’m pretty confident in my receives. What school did you go to?”

“Karasuno.” Her eyes widen. 

“Oh.  _ Ooooh. _ ”

He lets out a chuckle as the two position themselves on their side of the court while Hideyoshi overly-explains one of the flaws in Ushijima’s technique. The teen’s position hasn’t really changed except for the fact that he’s on the other side of the net now but Daichi can tell that he hasn’t said anything not out of shock, but because he was taking it all in. 

“You know, my twin bro’s on the boy’s team. I came with him and some of his teammates to watch the national matches with the coach. Nobody ever heard of Karasuno except for when they shined a few years ago, but  _ you guys _ , when you walked on” her eyes practically sparkle “It was  _ awesome _ . What number were you? I couldn’t really see anyone’s face but I could see hair colour and number.”

“Number one. I was their captain.” He says. He nearly coughs up a lung at the force of her back pat. 

“Even better! Wow, I am  _ totally  _ going to get my brother to adopt you as his kouhai as well. We’re going to groom you to be captain and he’s going to make you the best ace e-”

“I’m going to be trained to play libero” Daichi says. 

“Even better! You’ll be awesome at receives and he’ll teach you on the side. So when we get a good libero, we can have you take back a position as spiker and then become captain. When I was watching the games, I might of mistaken you as the libero a few times, regardless of color, because of how damn  _ awesome  _ your saves were.” On the other side of the net, Hideyoshi has finally finished lecturing Ushijima. The Ushijima holds his ground while Hideyoshi goes to the back, getting ready for a-

“Jump serve” Daichi grins. His feet move themself so he’s a good distance away from Aki and their area of defense is equal. He watches the ball go up and then her approach. It’s different from all of the other jump serves he’s seen. 

The ball comes in fast and in a steep angle. Aki receives it, sending it high into the air, close to the net. Daichi runs forward and jumps, spiking the ball down on the other side, just shy of Ushijima’s fingers as the latter dives for the ball. 

“Nice kill” Aki says. 

“One to none!” Hideyoshi replies, tossing the ball over the net to Aki’s outstretched arms. Aki passes the ball to Daichi. 

“You serve. I wanna see.”

Compared to Hideyoshi’s serve, Daichi’s serve is less than mediocre, it’s a basic serve that sends the ball over the net, just a few centimeters above the net. He grins when Hideyoshi is the one to receive the ball, sending it into the air and to the side, where Ushijima has to toss it back to Hideyoshi. She spikes the ball and lets out a laugh when Daichi dives and receives it, a twitch of the wrist sending it in the direction of Aki, a perfect arc, and she spikes it back only to have Ushijima block it and send it back. 

“One all” he deadpans. The concentrated look on his face is scary because he really is taking this practice seriously. Daichi gets up when all of a sudden his phone rings. 

“Let me go get that real quick” Daichi says. Aki waves at him. 

“Don’t mind.” 

He quickly jogs over. It has stopped ringing only to start up again. He checks the caller ID: Suga. Right, because he hasn’t given anyone else his number. 

“Hello?” He says, trying to keep from laughing. “Where are you guys?”

“Where are we? Where are  _ you _ !” He hears Koushi exclaim. “Is Ushiwaka with you?” 

“Yeah, you guys are slow.” Daichi says. There’s silence on the other end. Well, as silent as it can get in the middle of a crowd. 

“What do you mean” Suga nearly hisses. 

“We’re at the gym already. Think for the past ten minutes? We got some stretches in and we’re in the middle of a double match with two third-years from the girls’ team. I’m a kouhai now. It’s been so long” he says, purposely making his tone wistful while he hears Suga let out a stream of almost curses. 

“Okay okay, we’re on our way” Suga says, quickly ending the call. Daichi chuckles, closing his phone and putting it in an outer pocket of his bag now that he’s sure they won’t be calling again. 

“Sawamura-san. You seem to have enjoyed that call.” Two years of two demons by the name of Tanaka and Nishinoya are the only thing keeping Daichi from jumping and making a noise. His shoulder flinches and he turns around. Akaashi is setting his bag down, outfitted in all black. 

“Akaashi” he says. “How are you?” Akaashi nods. 

“Good.”

“Will you be trying out for the team?” Akaashi smiles at this and Daichi mentally flinches because he shouldn’t of been so forward with the question. 

“No. I might of this year, perhaps, but the counselor advised against it. But someone needs to keep Bokuto-san in line and although I think you might of partially succeeded, Sawamura-san, I don’t have the same faith with the rest of the team, considering that Kuroo-san is also on the team. I’ll probably try out next year, but for now, I’m merely the manager.” Akaashi puts his bag on the ground, sneaker hanging from one hand as he opens the zipper. “I’ll watch your two-on-two game and I’ll join in when the other get here. If the girls agree to stay, we will be able to play four on four with one substitute.” He starts putting his shoes inside his bag. 

“That’s great.” Akaashi nods and Daichi turns around and jogs back to the court. 

“What was that about?” Aki asks. “And I see a new guy. He also on the team?” Daichi shakes his head. 

“Akaashi’s going to be our manager. He’s good, though. He’s a setter. Would you mind if this game expands? There’s going to be five more kind of pissed of guys coming in a few minutes because Ushijima and I abandoned them somewhere down the road.”

“Sure sure! The more the merrier” Aki says as she easily receives a ball. Daichi cuts off his talking to tap the ball over the net. Giving a dump feels nice. He’s never tried it before. “Why isn’t Akaashi playing on the team this year?”

“Oh, he’s only in university because one of the guys is his best friend and can also only be controlled by him. So for the sake of the team’s sanity. Akaashi is a god in disguise.” 

Aki frowns. “He’s only in university for him?”

“He should be a third-year in highschool.” Aki whistles. 

“Smart boy.” Daichi runs towards the net and jumps up, failing to block Ushijima’s spike and Aki just missing the ball. They’re now tied, three to three. 

And it’ll stay three to three till the end of time because the gym doors burst open with enough force to bang against the walls. Daichi’s head slowly swivels to the side and his eyes widen when he meets a pair of golden eyes from across the courts. 

“DAICHIIIIIIIII!” He hears Fukurodani’s former captain nearly scream and it echoes throughout the gym. The people on the other courts also freeze, a stray basketball bouncing, neglecting. Two seconds pass and then they resume their previous activities. 

“Help me” Daichi rasps. He can see Kuroo’s hair behind Bokuto but that’s not going to save him because the owl is already marching forward, that march turning into a jog and then a run. “Akashi, I need you now! I’m going to die!” 

“Yeah, you’re going to die” Aki agrees. Akaashi merely sighs and stands up. 

“Sawamurai-san, toss me that volleyball?” Daichi looks down at the ball in his hands and he lightly tosses it to Akaashi. 

“Akaashi, um, hurry?” Daichi says, backing up. Ushijima looks positively amused. Akaashi rotates the ball in his hand, squeezing it a few times before nodding. Bokuto has almost crossed all three of the courts, eyes dead set on Daichi. 

“SAWAMURA” Bokuto seethes. “We  _ waited  _ for you and we were worried  _ sick _ , YOU BA-” Akaashi smoothly takes a step to the left holding the ball out at chest level. 

“Bokuto-san, would you mind if I tossed to you?” Bokuto abruptly stops, skidding a few centimeters, shoes screeching against the ground. His knees bend a bit, subconsciously making himself a little shorter so that he’s closer to Akaashi’s height. His eyes shine and he ignores the ball in favor of Akaashi, wrapping his arms around him. 

“Akaashi! It’s been so long!”

“It’s only been a day, Bokuto-san. We took the same train.”

“One day too long.” Then he pulls away and his hands eagerly clasp together. “And of course I’ll spike your tosses Akaashi! Even though not nearly enough this year, I expect you to practice and make it on the team next year so that I can have  _ all  _ of your tosses!” 

“Aw, they’re cute.” Aki coos and Daichi can’t help but nod. “This is Bokuto, I assume?” Daichi nods. “Alright.  _ Bokuto _ !” She snaps and Bokuto’s head swivels. “Go stretch first. If you successfully accomplish that, then maybe you can be on the same team as Akaashi.” With the threat of not being on the same team as Akaashi, Bokuto salutes. 

“Yes sir!” And he quickly goes to the side and starts stretching. 

“Oh, so  _ that’s  _ Akaashi-kun” Oikawa muses with the other four, having wisely chosen not to run straight across the courts. “He really is pretty. I have some competition.” And his gaze turns to Daichi and Aki. “And  _ Dai-chan _ , you never told me that you ran into two beau-”

“Go screw yourself” Aki says, a smirk on her face. Oikawa grins. 

“I liker her.” He bows. “Oikawa Tooru, at your ser-”

“Go stretch. Then you can join us.” She looks at the remaining two. “Same goes for you two. Stretch and then we can divide teams for a four on four game. I’m going to guess that the lanky guy with black hair is the one who gave my dad a knot on his head?”

Daichi blinks. 

“What?”

“Last night when he came home. Apparently he got knocked out at the dinner.” Kuroo backtracks and looks at her with a grin. 

“That was your dad? Oh wow, I feel bad for you, having to live with that dick.” She rolls her eyes. 

“So it was you?”

“Kuroo, you knocked a board member out?” Daichi manages. Kuroo laughs, waving his hands. 

“No no” he laughs. “I wish I had the courage to do that. That was actually Ushiwaka. He was getting annoyed with the guy for causing so much of a ruckus so he knocked him out with the rice.” Daichi’s eyes move to Ushijima. Ushijima has his arms raised in the position for a block. Hideyoshi is tossing a ball she got from a cart in the corner lightly at him, aiming for different parts of his hand and telling him how to differently position his fingers for different types of deflects. Telling from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t taught this, not in Shiratorizawa or on the national team. 

“Okay” Daichi simply manages. 

“I’ll have to send him my thanks” Aki muses. “I think it knocked some common sense into him.” The rest of the guys finish stretching and they divide into teams. Suga chooses to sit on the side first since they all agree that it wouldn’t be fair having a team with two setters. The teams consist of Akaashi, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Hideyoshi versus Oikawa, Daichi, Ushijima, and Aki. Although Oikawa was a bit stubborn with with Ushijima being on his team, reason (Daichi’s glare) made him come to reason with the fact that it would be severely unfair to have both Ushijima and Bokuto on the same team. Having two aces on one team is more dangerous than having two setters in terms of physical strength. 

Ushijima looked like a child on Christmas, sans a smile, when he finally gets Oikawa to toss to him. Daichi was ready to laugh. Some time later, they’re at match point, although the other side is one point away from pushing them into a deuce: team common-sense (Daichi, Oikawa, etc.) versus team idiots (everyone on Bokuto’s team except for Akaashi. Daichi is now confident that Bokuto, Kuroo, and Suga should not become friends. But it’s too late for that). The rotation has left it so that Oikawa is the one serving.

“Bokuto-san, do you know how exactly Sawamura-san and Ushijima-san managed to somehow arrive at the gym before you although they had been behind you?” Daichi’s eyes widen. Oikawa has already started for his serve. 

“How?” Bokuto asks, crouching down just as Oikawa jumps up for the ball. 

“Ushijima carried Daichi on his shoulders and they ran on the edge of the pavement.” Oikawa hits the ball but the force is weakened. It makes it over but it’s easy to receive and both teams are laughing while they play, the seriousness of the match reduced. 

“Seriously!?” Kuroo laughs. “Sawamura, how’d you even get up there?”

“I crouched” Ushijima says, forced to receive the ball. Oikawa, through the laughter, somehow manages to toss the ball to Daichi, who spikes it over the net only to have Bokuto and Suga appear out of nowhere, their faces split into grins, cheeks red. The ball bounces on the ground behind Daichi and they lost their match-point, now stuck in a horrid deuce. 

“I also have it on video” Akaashi says. “If we win, I’d be glad to show it to you.”

“You guys better win!” Oikawa exclaims. 

And they do. By all logical means, Daichi’s team should of won. They have Aki-san, the captain of their university’s girls volleyball team. They also have Ushijima, a player on the national nineteen under team as well as the number three ace in the country. Oikawa, a setter whose skill has made him well-known. And they have Daichi, the crow who led his murder to the national stage. 

But the other team has a Bokuto and a Kuroo, both of them in their natural environment. Akaashi is still smiling from the sidelines. Those two together outside of the court are chaotic already but somehow, that chaos is controllable on the court, a force of nature to be reckoned with. Suga setter dumps the ball over. They’re a point ahead. Bokuto serves and Daichi receives the ball, Ushijima slamming the ball down onto the other side. Their deuce continues to thirty-two and that’s when it ends. Oikawa had given them the first point, ball flying outside of the court. Akaashi joined the team, sending Suga to the sidelines to watch (Daichi doesn’t think Oikawa has ever switched out. . .) and the green-eyed setter had tossed it  _ backwards  _ where Hideyoshi had come up, the ace slamming the ball down. 

Daichi’s life has now ended. 

“LET’S GOOOO!” The girl howls, high-fiving Bokuto and Kuroo. And then that team drags Akaashi off the court. Oikawa also joined them and Aki trailed after him after sending Daichi an apologetic look. 

“I apologize for our loss” Ushijima says with a frown “They were challenging but we should of beat them with ease.” Daichi pats him on the back. 

“Ushijima, eventually you will learn that common rational doesn’t apply to some people.  _ Especially  _ Kuroo and Bokuto.”

“Then it is good that we play for the same school. My opinion of Kuroo hadn’t been very well at first, since I had scarcely heard of Nekoma. But his skill surely is formidable, especially his defense. His blocking skills far surpass that of Date.”

“OH MY GOD, LOOK AT HOW FAST HE’S GOING!”

“Is that us? Oh my gods,  _ they ran right past us how did we not see Daichi _ ? He was, like, two and a half meters in the air!” 

“They waved at you, Akaashi!”

“That is totally not safe. . .”

“I want an Ushijima piggy back!”

“Do you remember how to get to the icecream place we went to yesterday?” Daichi asks. He would of laughed at Ushijima’s slightly reddened cheeks but he can’t when he himself is trying to keep the embarrassed lump in his throat from growing. 

“I don’t have my wallet.”

“I have it in my bag.” The two of them somehow manage to sneak by because Akaashi has now handed his phone to Bokuto, who everyone is now circled around as he speeds up and slows down certain part. They get their bags and quickly go outside, Daichi slipping his phone and wallet into his pocket. They quickly take their knee pads off outside and switch shoes. They jog to the metro and Daichi is smiling as they sneak away, once again. He feels bad for leaving Suga behind but he can so very clearly remember Suga laughing at the part where Ushijima runs past the group of them on the sidewalk. Forgiveness is a must for a good best-friendship and he’s sure that Suga will just turn the fact that he ran away  _ twice  _ into his face. 

“Quickly! Get off!” Daichi exclaims as he and Ushijima try to fight through the crowded compartment. The only thing that keeps them from getting trapped on the metro and foiling their plan is an old woman’s cane which stops the doors from closing. She moves it right after Daichi’s foot makes it past the doors. 

After they get off at the second stop, the two stay close together, bags sometimes knocking into people around them. They order their icecream and sit down outside, watching the crowd around them. Daichi’s phone rings. 

“I was wondering how long it would take them to call this time.” Ushijima muses. Daichi grins and decides to put the phone on speaker.

“Koushi, fancy hearing your lovely voice again” Daichi croons. 

“Daichi, your bag was stolen! Where are you, the bathroom? We can’t find Ushijima either! I swear, we mess around for ten minutes-”

“Refreshing-kun, be quiet” Oikawa says. “Dai-chan, is Bakawaka with you?” Daichi looks at Ushijima. 

“Bakawaka. That’s a good one, Ushijima.” Ushijima nods. 

“A very good play with words.”

“STOP COMPLIMENTING ME BA-” he cuts himself off. “So he  _ is  _ with you. How many people are in the bathroom with you? It sounds very crowded.”

“It is very crowded” Ushijima says, leaning forwards, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “But it seems as if we got lost again. The crowd carried us away.”

“Oh my gods, I knew it!” Kuroo explains. “Your sense of directions  _ sucks _ , Ushi. So where are you? You can’t be farther than down the street.”

“It is very hard to determine our location” Ushijima says. “It looks vaguely familiar.”

“Do not move from there” Akaashi says. “Aki-san and Hideyoshi-kun are coming with us. Perhaps send us a photo of where you are?” 

“Of course” Ushijima says. “We have no reason to move from here.” Then Daichi ends the call. 

“Selfie?”

“Of course.”

**_Meanwhile. . ._ **

The group exits the gym. Suga is very worried and Aki is muttering about her kouhai and comforting Hideyoshi that her direction-blind kouhai is absolutely safe. Akaashi has a knowing glint in his eyes because he knows that Daichi-san and Ushijima-san aren’t actually lost. No, he saw the former grin at the latter while they sneaked their bags and left the gym. He is merely here to enjoy everyone’s expressions. Bokuto-san looks like a lost puppy without knowing where two of his teammates are. They leave the gym and find a quiet area to wait for their clue in peace.

Sugawara-san’s phone pings and he gasps.

“I got a text! It’s from Daichi!”

“Okay, here. Show me” Kuroo says. “I know this area and Yaku has an apartment not too far so I can even call him to pick them u-” they all stare at the photo. 

It’s a selfie. Of Daichi and Ushijima, already switched from the sweat-stained shirts they had been wearing to fresher clothes, although their cheeks are still a bit flushed from the intense physical activity but it’s died down. They’re sitting at an outdoor table, a very small smirk on Ushijima’s which is an accomplish in itself because of how rarely he really shows his emotions. Daichi’s facial expression is formed to mimic Oikawa’s, his tongue partially sticking out and the fingers of his free hand turned into the victory sign right by his eye. And in their hands, they hold a cup of icecream each. And even though the cup is turned to hide the name, Kuroo can tell where they are. 

“They’re at the icecream place!” Kuroo cries, snatching the phone from Suga’s hands. “But how did they get there so quickly!? And get the icecream already!?!?!” And then Suga gets another text. 

_ Magic. And we also almost missed this stop. _

That makes sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With how much Daichi & Ushijima I put in this chapter and the last, I can pretty much make a plot of this story making about all of the captains start to pine over Daichi and make this a polycaptain fic. But then I think about it, and I kind of want to make this fic have slow burn Bokuto x Akaashi with the captains helping Bokuto out with his feelings and I kind of want to do the same with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. So that would leave Kuroo (since I don't really do Kenma x Kuroo) and Ushijima to pine and battle over Daichi. That would actually be really fun if I decide to have a _lot_ of pining ships. And I actually do support Ushijima x Daichi and Daichi x Kuroo because I've found really good fics for both of those ships and Ushijima x Daichi is my favorite rair-pair :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 in Tokyo and a lot of things can happen in one room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I change the point of view to someone other than Daichi and it seems like Oikawa gets the medal for second place.   
> [1] There’s the question about _university_. I am not Japanese and I was disappointed with what I read about Japanese university. With what I read, university in Japan isn’t nearly as important as university in America. The closest thing to an international standard university in Japan, I think, is the University of Tokyo, but our boys aren’t going there but to some college on the outskirts which I made up and still need to think up a name for. I was thinking Meiji University because I’m making this college reformed, so it’s a lot like American and international colleges so I can actually write it without thinking I’m projecting America onto Japan. But then I looked it up and Meiji University is already a thing so I’m back to zero.

Suga and Akaashi left at around three, the former after getting numbers from everyone.

The group, with the new addition of the two third-years, met up with Ushijima and Daichi at the icecream parlor, both of them being relatively heavy eaters. Daichi especially. He was on his third cup. They chatted for a while before roaming around the stores on the street. 

Suga’s train wasn’t going to leave for a few more hours, but he and Akaashi bonded. Kuroo also decided to call Kenma and had easily persuaded him to have a sort of setter get-together. Daichi had wanted Suga to stay. Bokuto wanted Akaashi to stay. But in the end, they abandoned them for Kenma, but not after being helpful and passing out hugs. 

Daichi found himself feeling a bit less nostalgic about home. And also a bit annoyed at Koushi because he didn’t hold on his word about helping Daichi unpack. 

Oikawa also found himself very much entertained by the process of unpacking. And also with thinking about everything that happened that day. 

One was obvious: Oikawa has a  _ lot  _ of new opinions about the Crow Captain. There was last night, which Oikawa  _ knows  _ he’ll never be able to forget. He’ll probably remember it in perfect clarity for the rest of the year. They had discussed birthdays, which was just a random thing they decided to talk about since April had just begun.. Sawamura is the youngest of them (which Suga  _ loved  _ to tease about) and it made Oikawa feel kind of bad. So much happened to him in twenty-four hours. Before yesterday, if you asked Oikawa Tooru about Sawamura Daichi, the man who led the fallen crows to the national stage, he would say that Sawamura is: 1) Sawamura 2) Reliable 3)  _ really  _ fit 4) his skills aren’t the first thing that catches your eye. Oh, and then there was also that temporary number five of  _ I hate his guts for being such a good defender and supporting his team and beating us when we worked so  _ hard  _ to go to nationals _ . 

What he thinks of Sawamura  _ now  _ is that: 

  1. He’s Daichi
  2. He’s trustworthy
  3. Yes, he’s fit, he looks good, but he’s not just a handsome face
  4. He chooses not to make his skill eye catching- their match proved that much
  5. He made his team beat Shiratiorizawa (hah! Take _that_ Ushiwaka!)



So, once Akaashi and Sugawara went away for their setter meeting (which Oikawa isn’t jealous of because his Captain Squad is  _ soooooo _ much better), Oikawa dove at the chance to apply his newfound information to have a good college life. 

“So” Oikawa claps his hands together, a good forty seconds (yes, he counted) after the two left and Kuroo and Bokuto collapsed on the couches, groaning about walking and icecream “Unpacking!” 

The shorter of the two nearly passed-out ex-captains waves their hand in the air. 

“NooOoOOOoo” Bokuto groans. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Me neither” Kuroo groans with an equal amount of agreement in his voice. Oikawa spreads a sweet smiles across his face, a smile with anything  _ but  _ innocent intentions behind it. His gaze briefly flickers to Daichi who is currently drinking a cup of cold water while Ushijima is multi-tasking by asking the brunette what sort of cups he should buy because it’s tiresome and expensive in the long run to continue using paper cups. 

“But what about room selection?” Oikawa asks. “I guess I can get first pi-”

“I am fine with sleeping in the smaller room” Ushijima cuts Oikawa off. “At the Shiratorizawa dorms, I did not have a roommate.” Oikawa grins because this plays right into his plan. Oh, the Plan. He needs to add a new thing to it:

_ Somehow  _ get along with Ushiwaka. He sort of is already but he has to consciously agree to the fact that he’s. . .positively acquainted with his former archenemy. He’s already acquainted with him but he has to be acquainted in a friendly way! He internally cringes. Alright. Hold thinking about that until  _ after  _ he officially moves in. 

At the thought of choosing roommates and rooms, Bokuto and Kuroo quickly sit up. Well, Kuroo sits up. Bokuto tumbles onto the ground and then hops onto his feet in one fluid movement. It’s actually impressive, how surprisingly graceful is. Daichi heads over to Oikawa, Ushijima following not a step behind. Oikawa holds in a snicker- Ushijima, for how much he doubted Karasuno and almost everything they stood for, he’s become quite protective of Daichi. Oikawa wishes he had seen the tall teen knock that guy out with  _ rice _ . 

“Anyway, I already know what room I’m in ‘cause my blankets there!” Oikawa exclaims and then he flings himself at Daichi, bending down and wrapping his arms around his body. “And Dai-chan will be my roommate!” Bokuto’s eyes widen. 

“What? Come on! How come you get to room with Daichi?” Bokuto pouts and Oikawa has to hold back, he has to  _ hold back so much from apologizing because no one should have the ability to do puppy eyes like that.  _

“Sawamura, no! Don’t leave me!”

“Hey, you have the most experience with rooming with Dai already. Let  _ me  _ have a chance/” Bokuto defends. Daichi tugs away from Oikawa, prying the setter’s arms away from him. 

“What do you mean by Kuroo-kun already has experience?”

“It’s nothing” Daichi says. “He snuck into our room during our first training camp because Hinata had passed out in Nekoma’s room.”

“On my futon, don’t forget that” Kuroo interjects. Daichi shrugs and sends a scary smile Kuroo’s way, causing the cat-like teen to involuntarily take a step back. 

“So he decided to invade mine.”

“And you were warm. Like a space heater- ow, ‘ _ Muraaa _ ” Kuroo groans, rubbing the spot on his head where Daichi had thrown his plastic cup at with a scary accuracy.

“ _ I’ll  _ decide who I room with” Daichi says with narrowed eyes. “I’ll room room with Oikawa.”

“I knew you loved me!” Oikawa croons, spreading his arms to move in for a hug but Daichi holds his arm out, stopping Oikawa in his tracks. 

“And it’s only because I feel bad for you,”

“Ooooh, rough.” 

“And because Bokuto and Kuroo know each other the best so they’ll get along fine in the same room.” He lowers his arm and Oikawa doesn’t move forward, arms falling to his side. Kuroo looks thoughtful and he nods with a shrug. 

“I’m fine rooming with Bo. He’s my second choice anyway.”

The other teen looks at Kuroo with a soft look on his face, putting his hands over his heart. “Bro, you were even my second choice too.” Kuroo reaches out and takes Bokuto’s hands in his. 

“It was meant to be.”

“Yes.”

“These decisions are logical” Ushijima says with a nod. He goes to the back of the couch and takes two of his boxes stacked on top of each other, biceps straining against his shirt with the weight. Then he heads down the hallway to his room. Bokuto and Kuroo quickly race to his boxes while Daichi takes his suitcase and one box. 

The unpacking process takes about an hour. Oikawa takes the bed closer to the door while Daichi takes the one closer to the window. He doesn’t have nearly as much stuff as Oikawa, finishing in twenty minutes. Oikawa occasionally glanced over to see how the younger teen was doing. A box with a bedsheet and pillowcase set which was a solid pastel orange color that reminds Oikawa of sorbet. Neatly folded clothes organized by type into the dresser, two framed photos, one of the team, manager, and two adults with signatures all over it as well as who Oikawa assumes is Daichi’s mom. Books are put in a drawer and an alarm clock is plugged in. Boxes collapsed and moved to the front of the apartment, he suitcase is moved to Ushijima’s room, as agreed on day one. 

“A crow plushie?” Oikawa asks, raising an eyebrow after taping a Star Trek movie poster on the wall to the right of his bed, right next to the simpler alien-themed poster which says “I believe”. Daichi glanches over his shoulder, hands moving away from the crow plushie he had placed on his bedside table. 

“My captain gave it to me at the end of my first year” Daichi says, a nostalgic look crossing his face. “It’s the only stuffed toy I still have.” His gaze lingers on the plush before he moves his focus to the posters. “An alien poster? A Star Trek poster?” He lets out a chuckle. “For a lady magnet, you’re such a nerd. I mean, look at your  _ sheets _ .” Oikawa makes a point of not looking at his sheets, no matter how much he wants to. He even took Takeru with him to choose them! And they cost quite a bit too. 

“What about them?” Oikawa crosses his arms. “They’re cool.” He turns his nose up, eyes closed. 

“Yeah, that’s true. The constellations are accurate.” Oikawa opens a single eye. Their two sides of their room couldn’t be more different. Oikawa’s obviously has a theme going on: space. Blacks and greens and then a corner with volleyball stuff. His clothes aren’t diverted to being fashionable, but he does have fashionable clothes, but most of it is whatever caught his interest at the time: a squiem alien turtleneck, a cozy godzilla shirt from Iwaizumi, a slightly oversized tie-die shirt. He thinks he only owns two casual t-shirts which are a solid color, and that’s for training. And then Daichi’s side, it looks pretty cozy. Homy. All he needs is a potted plant.

Oikawa finishes setting up his side of the room. Daichi is quiet the whole time, lying down on his bed with one leg propped over the other, phone in hand. 

“Who’re you texting?” 

“Kuroo.” Oikawa blinks and then looks at the closed door. “He’s keeping Bokuto company.” He gets up and puts his phone in his pocket. “I’m going to check out the vending machines. Want to come?” Oikawa shakes his head. 

“I’m good! I still have the delicious milk bread you got me. Thank you for that, Daichi.” Daichi’s face softens, a warm smile crossing his face, his large chocolate brown eyes lighting up. He rubs the back of his neck. 

“It was nothing” Daichi says. He grabs his wallet from the bedside table and exits the room, door softly closing behind him. Oikawa, now done, flops onto his bed, staring at the slowly spinning ceiling fan. 

That entertains him for five seconds. Five seconds of tracing the journey of one of the blades and trying to make out what the dust on the edge of it might look like. He flops over onto his stomach, resting his chin on his pillow. Oikawa lets out a groans and rolls so that he’s splayed across the short side of the bed, head and legs hanging off. His gazes at his Star Trek poster and dedicates a minute of quietly belting out the theme song. 

They have about two, three weeks until university starts. University and volley-  _ volleyball _ ! He half-somersaults off the bed and leaps to where he’s put his laptop on charging. He leans against the wall, laptop now in his lap, and he quickly types in his password. Navigating to his email is quick and there, waiting, in all of its glory, is the PDF. Oikawa had almost completely forgotten about it. 

With a grin, he gets to work, taking his glasses out of his case and he dives in, reading through the twenty paged document. 

Most of it is about safety rules and regulations, fine-print terms and conditions: Oikawa reads  _ all  _ of it. 

It’s pretty helpful. There’s a page on the other members of the team. Oikawa sees that the captain’s name is Aki. He’ll have to wary of him if he’s related to that director. But his daughter was kind and pretty enough. . .he’ll have to wait and see. 

Today is a Monday. They’ll have their first practice Friday and what’s basically a training camp for all of next week. Tryouts for anyone else who may want to play will be held in a month. The week after next week (ah. Two sad weeks of break) is when classes will start. He’ll have to go down to the main building and sign up for his classes as well as officially selecting his major. 

Oikawa is actually very excited about going to college here. He had gotten invitations to the University of Tokyo and Chuo, but in the end, he accepted to go here. Why? Because of how  _ new  _ and  _ different  _ it is. 

Most of the other universities teach in Japanese. Oikawa had always excelled in english and since he wants to go professional after graduating, or maybe even before he graduates, it’s a good idea to improve his english. Who knows which team from which country will want him, although he’d prefer to stay in Japan. 

This university, besides Tokyo, is one of the few to start teaching courses in the english lingua. They just adopted an international standard of teaching so the classes will be more intensive than other schools, increasing the likelihood of students being invited to study abroad as well as drawing interest from other international universities. This is the closest thing Oikawa will get to going to those american universities he’s been enamored with since his sister bought him some american movies for his birthday so that he could practice his english. 

He reads through the pdf. Morning practice everyday, extended practice on the weekends. Mandatory to enroll in either sports therapy or sports medicine. 

  
Right when he finishes reading through, the door to his room slams open. He lets out a high pitched noise and flinches away from the door, only to relax when Kuroo pokes his head through the door. 

“Hey, ‘Kawa!” Kuroo says. “I changed my mind- I’m not going into law!” Bokuto pokes his head in too, right below Kuroo’s. Oikawa blinks before a grin spreads across his face. 

“I  _ knew  _ you weren’t fit to become a lawyer.” Kuroo pouts. 

“Wow. How rude.”

Oikawa saves the pdf on his laptop before closing the windows and turning it off, leaning it back in the gap between the bedside table and the wall to continue charging. He gets up, brushing invisible dust from the seat of his pants. 

“What do plan on going into now?”

“Chemistry. Also, cool specs. I have a pair but that’s just for if I’m gonna’ stare at a screen for too long.” And then another look crosses his face. “Oh, and Bokuto’s being an idiot. Convince him not to be an idiot.” The two enter the room and they plop themselves down on Oikawa’s bed. Oikawa sighs and leans against the wall, right between his two posters. 

“I am charmed that you think that I’ll be a good mediator” he says sarcastically. “What is it?” Kuroo shoulders Bokuto. 

“Tell him what things your getting degrees for.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, I’m getting my major in electrical engineering, because that’s just cool. But Akaashi’s in literature so I’m going to minor in English Literature because they have cool action stuff going on, and then I’m going to get a another science minor so physics. And I’m going to see what Ushijima and Daichi sign up for so I can get at least one class with them as well.” Oikawa blinks in confusion.

“Okay okay,  _ several  _ questions. You’re majoring in electrical engineering, that’s cool. Physics makes sense. But why the heck are you minoring in  _ English Literature _ !?” Bokuto stares at him owlishly. 

“Akaashi” he simply says. Oikawa’s face turns sour. 

“And physics?”

“Because Kuroo’s taking a physics course and I already agreed to match with him. And you also have to take a physics course for Astronomy, so you can join us! I’d be bored otherwise too.” Oikawa takes his glasses off, cleaning the speckless lenses before putting them on again. 

“You’re getting numerous degrees to keep us company? Bokuto, you shouldn’t do that. You’ll stress yourself out and that’ll impact your playing on the court.” Bokuto pouts. 

“But I called Akaashi and he was fine with it! And my schedule’s pretty free since I already have a bunch of credits already.”

“Wait” Oikawa and Kuroo say at the same time. “What do you mean by  _ already _ !?” Kuroo says with wide eyes. 

“I graduated top of my class.”

“In math I thought” Kuroo says. Bokuto looks confused, furrowing his brow. 

“Bro, not just math. I was top of my class, like, my  _ whole  _ class. In all of my classes. And homework was too easy so my Junior High teacher suggested out of school classes so my dad signed me up for some online american college or something and I ended up taking a bunch of classes for the past six years so I already have a ton of credits piled up. It was a pain at first ‘cuz I had to learn english pretty quick but it ended up being fun.” He continues rambling and Oikawa goes more and more into a daze, blankly staring at the gold eyed man. “I almost have my electrical engineering major already but I just have to grab some more credits. Akaashi said to tell you guys that I’m a” his brow furrows “genius in disguise? Yeah.” He brightens. “So, Oikawa. You gonna come with us to make our schedules sometime this week so I can match some courses with you?”

Oikawa can’t help but nod. He lets out a whoop. 

“Great! See Kuroo? Told you so! I’m going to talk to ‘Jima now.” And he bounds at the room, calling for the other spiker. Kuroo stares at Oikawa and Oikawa stares at Kuroo, and they just do that until Daichi enters the room. 

“Hey, the vending machines have a surprising amount of op-” he cuts himself off. “Are you two having a staring contest?” Kuroo shakes his head.

“We just found out Bokuto is basically a genius in everything, not just volleyball. He just about has his degree.”

“ _ Oh”  _ Daichi sighs in relief. “I thought it was something serious.” The two snap out of their daze. 

“What do you  _ mean  _ this wasn’t serious?” 

“I thought at least you knew already Kuroo. After we exchanged numbers at training camp Bokuto sometimes sent me his essays to read over. They’re pretty interesting. He just needs more variety with his vocabulary. Where’s he now?”

“Asking Ushijima” Oikawa says. If Daichi can act chill about this then he can also act chill about this. It’s still so hard to imagine Bokuto as smart. Yes, Bokuto is intelligent but that’s with volleyball. Oikawa himself was really good at school, top of his class in english and science. Bokuto doesn’t seem like a fancy intellect, like professors or snobbish kids who go to boarding school in Scandinavia. Bokuto seems like someone who has a more raw sort of intelligence, honest in a way. 

“Sa’amura, decide your major yet?” 

“I’m thinking electrical engineering” Daichi says. “Honestly, coming here changed my perspective a lot. If I’d gone to school back in Miyagi, I would of studied criminal justice and not worry too much about volleyball. But then I got a scholarship here, where volleyball will be my focus. Our ace, Asahi, I thought he’d become a vet or something and take care of baby animals” he lets out a chuckle “But he’s going to college for volleyball first, to become better, and then join a professional team and then join the national team. I think I’m going to do the same. Volleyball is pretty much the best thing that’s happened to me and now that I think about it, I don’t know what I would’ve done without volleyball in my life. Being an officer is pretty taxing, not a lot of time off. Maybe in another life I would of gone down that road, but not this one.” He ends it with a shrug. “You can say I’m going back to school just for the fun of it.” There’s a moment of silence. 

“Dude. That was inspiring” Kuroo says. “I like chemistry, a job sounds nice, play for the neighborhood team. . .But remember what they said at that meeting?”

Oikawa nods. “This school is known for their athletic programs. A large amount of their athletes are chosen for professional teams.” 

“So why not aim for the top?” Kuroo grins, canines flashing and eyes looking like they’re shining. “I’m fine either way, professional or getting a science-y job. And I already know, like Sawamura, which one I have a higher chance with.”

“I agree” Oikawa says. “Most go to college for education first and sports for the fun of it” He sees Daichi also smiling out of the corner of his eye “But it seems like the lot of us are idiots for flipping it around. What will our parents say about us?” Kuroo lets out a laugh. It’s ear scratching and not at all pretty but somehow, it gets Daichi to laugh with him. 

“I can already imagine my mom” Kuroo wheezes, pointing a finger in Oikawa’s vague direction. “You-you  _ brat _ ” he giggles “I g-g-get you into Nekoma and you spend your time to get get money for a child’s sport!” 

“I paid for your knee not so that you could play but so that you could walk yourself to class” Oikawa chuckles. 

“Just because you got a sports scholarship doesn’t mean you give up aiming to becoming a vital part of society” Daichi drawls. “But that’s a joke. Unlike you two, my mom is very much supportive of me.” His smile is teasing. 

“How mean, Dai-chan!” Oikawa groans. The door opens again and this time Ushijima stands in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob. 

“Kuroo, what time do you plan on taking chemistry? It seems to be the only class that I share with Bokuto.”

“I’m thinking eleven” Bokuto says from behind him. Oikawa perks up. 

“Oh, I’ll join you for chemistry!”

“Do you even need to take chemistry?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow at Oikawa. Oikawa shakes his head. 

“No, but it’ll be nice to share a class with everyone. I think all of us can take it before lunch? Then we can head down to lunch together, like the big huge family we’re going to be!” 

“YES! FAMILY!” Bokuto exclaims, launching himself at Oikawa, tackling him with a rugby-level hug. Oikawa lets out a squawk and Daichi chuckles. 

“Nice kill!” Kuroo calls. 

“This is interesting” Ushijima comments. “Daichi, I have some books on strategies for different positions. Would you like to see them in preparation of your libero training?”

“Oh, yes please.”

“SOMEONE HELP ME!” Oikawa wails but Bokuto just shifts on him. 

“No way, we’re family! And you’re cozy.” Bokuto says. Kuroo pats Oikawa on the head. 

“See yah man. Hope you make it out without suffocating.” And then it’s just Oikawa and the weight on his back. He goes limp and resigns himself to his fate, hoping that Bokuto will get off soon.

Nope. Bokuto just chats his ear off and rolls off his back fifty minutes later because Kuroo knocks on the door to tell him that he’s making himself some coffee and if Bokuto would want something to drink. 

He doesn’t know  _ what  _ to expect for the rest of the year, and then the year after that, and then two more. And then he’ll go professional and maybe see Tobio-chan and kick his pathetic team into the ground. 

But going professional means leaving. It means separating. He’s never been good with leaving people, hence how Iwa-chan’s stayed with him for years until now. Oikawa sits up. He was four years at most to ignore more thoughts of separation. For now he needs to teach Kuroo the perfect way to make coffee to have with milk bread. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So do you guys have any suggestions? This fic has a main plot but I also have to include college shenanigans ; ) Like the Ushijima-Daichi thing I had in the last chapter. Also, should I make chapter lengths shorter? As in I just divide a chapter in half or something so it’s less overwhelming than the 4000-8000 word chunks I’m writing and publishing it? Just let me know. The only thing I’ll have to work on is putting in smoother transitions between each chapter depending on how closely related they are.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly chaotic class scheduling, the nightmare of thinking about jobs, and the return of the Dadchi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely not one of my better chapters since the topic of the content is kind of boring.

“So find a computer and sit down. The electronic form will pop up. The first form is just basic things like dorm room address, name, date of birth, confirmation of information the school has already. Then specify any major or minors you have and a smaller window will appear telling you which courses are mandatory for you to take. Different courses have a different total amount of hours per week. Select the time slot and it’ll show you all the course information. Blah blah blah blah” Bokuto blinks at the woman who’s talking to them. The five of them decided to go together so they can “optimize our schedules”, according to Kuroo (increase chances of him being able to skip some lectures because he has a roommate who he can copy notes from). 

The lady keeps on talking. Kuroo looks like he’s zoned out, nodding at the wrong times, Daichi looks like he’s a daze, Ushijima looks the same, and Oikawa is the only who actually seems to be following along. 

_Eh_ Bokuto thinks. _Akaashi explained the process to me over the phone. She’s making it sound a lot more complicated. I just have to make sure that I take Creative Writing on Sunday from 6:00 to 9:00 and History of Literature from 11:00 to 2:00._ Those two classes were the only two literature related classes that he needs to take to get a minor. He already got all the other credits online from his random selection and completion of any online college course that seemed interesting. 

After what seems to be an eternity later, the lady leaves and the five of them sit down at the computers. Bokuto settles himself between Kuroo and Oikawa, Daichi on Kuroo’s other side, and Ushijima at the opposite end. Conveniently far from Oikawa. 

“Alright!” Kuroo exclaims. It’s early in the morning, eight o’clock, half an our after the building opened. Akaashi told Bokuto that it didn’t take him long to finish, a little less than an hour to select his classes, but it’ll probably take him longer because he wants to have a lot of classes with his roommates. He’s going to make this semester so fun! “Who’s ready for this?”

“I am!” Bokuto exclaims, cracking his knuckles before putting a hand on the mouse, clicking away. No one else speaks up. Bokuto looks back at the screen, finishes putting in basic information, clicking some fun looking boxes a few times, before pressing the next button. A schedule pops up, all blank except for some of the information he put on top: his name, year, semester, and birthday. 

“Oh. How many classes does electrical engineering even _need_ ” Daichi mutters, eyes narrowing at the screen. “Bokuto, you took most of these already?”

“Yeah” Bokuto says. “Why. How much do you need to take this semester? He tries to lean over but the armrest keeps him from properly seeing the other’s screen. 

“Ah, let’s see” Daichi counts under his breath “At least eight that are actually related to my major. Our schedules are going to be a lot crowded because of volleyball.”

“I like it” Oikawa purrs, clicking. “Practice every morning except Sunday, mandatory practice three nights a week, and we can only have class before Saturday practice because the rest of the day is dedicated to any games we might have.”

Kuroo lets out a small chuckles. “Why would any of you want to cram a class before Saturday practice?”

“If you want a reasonable sleep schedule and a good amount of breaks, you might want to cram. First first semester is going to be chaotic.” Daichi squints at the screen. “What the heck is material science and why do I need to take it?” He looks over at Bokuto. “Don’t tell me you took material science before?” His eyes glare into the taller boy and he scootches closer to Kuroo. 

“Well, um, I did already!” Bokuto exclaims. “There was an engineering tacked onto the end when I took it but it’s basically a bunch of sciency stuff to make other sciency stuff.” There’s a whisper from Kuroo’s chair which sounds strangely close to “Still wondering if he’s a genius”. 

“First thing first: when are all of us taking chemistry?” Oikawa says. 

“Monday morning!” “Tuesday” “I don’t care” “Right before lunch”

It turns out that college classes are wack. The classes are different lengths, some of them are split to have them twice a week while others are only once a week. Bokuto bounds from computer to computer, trying to see where he could match his schedule up and where others could with each other. 

After a little over two hours, Ushijima is the first one to finish. 

“Daichi” he says, tilting his computer the other’s way. “Do any of your classes match mine?” In the first half hour, all of them settled on having Chemistry together with their first half being Tuesday morning from 9:30 - 11:30 while their second half is on Wednesdays, 1:30 - 3:30. 

“Let’s see. . .oh. If you change the professor you have for english, you can have it with Kuroo and I.” Then a look of amusement crosses his face. “You’re the only one not cramming a course before Saturday practice.” Ushijima nods. 

“I would like to have a night without having to worry about classes so early in the morning.”

“Most of my classes are pretty long” Daichi sighs. “So I had to cram. A lot.” Ushijima looks at Daichi’s screen and he frowns. 

“That doesn’t look healthy. Perhaps you should move that course to another time.”

“Yeah. I can’t. The only other time it’s taught is when I have mechanical chemistry, but I can’t move that. And I looked ahead to see what courses I’ll have to take next semester and it’s a lot less because I have all of these. So I’ll be stressed this first semester but then the next semester is going to be really easy.” 

“I would of had less classes” Ushijima says “But Bokuto is joining me for baking and pastry arts so I felt obligated to join him for his creative writing class for my elective.”

“All of your classes look fun” Daichi says. “Lots of cooking.”

“Hey!” Kuroo leans over Daichi’s shoulder to peer at his screen. “What’s your electi-” Kuroo winces. “Ooh. Are you sure you’re gonna do that, Sa’amura” Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one here?”

“Yeah. I know.” Daichi groans. “But it’s only one semester. _One_.” Kuroo looks apprehensive. 

“Do I need to call Sugawara to shout some sense into you? I mean” Kuroo runs a hand through his hair. _You can’t just try your best- you can’t try your best because you aren’t skilled._ “Are you putting so much pressure on yourself because of, um, you know.” Daichi shakes his head. 

“I’ll be fine. You should worry about Oikawa. I’ve heard he has a habit of overworking himself.” Kuroo hesitates before nodding. 

“Right. And look at that: we’re also going to have computer science together.” Then he heads over to Oikawa and Daichi has to stop himself from wondering why a chemistry major needs to take computer science. 

“Alright! Everyone! You all _have_ to take this elective with me” Oikawa announces. ‘It will make you believe!” Kuroo leans over Oikawa’s houlder now and his face pales. 

“Oh no.”

“Oh _yes_ ” Oikawa corrects. “I already got Kou-chan on my side.” Bokuto beams up at Kuroo. 

“Dude, it looks so interesting! I looked it up too!”

“It is always nice to have a shared class” Ushijima says. “And I am sure it is something of importance if Oikawa has recommended it. What is this course?”

“Okay, it’s going to be every Sunday from eight to ten at night.” Ushijima presses the slot, wondering which of the small amount of courses is so important. “And select the best one there: Extraterrestrial Life.”

Ushijima nearly presses is. 

“What?” Daichi says. Oikawa beams. 

“If I can’t make any of you believe, then _this guy_ will.”

“Do it do it do it!” Bokuto chants. “Come on!”

“No” Kuroo deadpans in a tone worthy of being used by Ushijima. “I ca-”

“Bro. Please?” Bokuto says, his eyes rounding even more so that he resembles a sad owl. Kuroo’s face twitches and he leans over the back of his seat to access his computer. 

“Fine. Before I change my mind.” 

Bokuto pups a fist into the air. “YES!” Then he looks at Daichi and Ushijima. “How about you two?” Daichi is wise to register for the course before he becomes another victim to Bokuto’s puppy eyes. 

As of 10:58 AM, five college freshmen finish registering for all of their courses and their schedules print out and are emailed to their personal accounts. 

“We share so many classes together!” Bokuto croons, waving the schedules out as he gives them to everyone. Daichi grimaces at the bottom right hand corner where there is only one box not in a soft color. It’s bright highlighter yellow, the words inside saying Extraterrestrial Life with the room under and class time underneath. 

“We’re going to have a lot of late dinners.” Kuroo sighs. “There goes a relaxing Sunday night.”

“Schedules aren’t definite” Oikawa says. “I talked to my sister last night and she told me that even though the classes are listed as being like six hours long for some of them, most of them usually finish half an hour before the listed time. So in reality, reduce all the class schedules in half and that’s the actual amount of time you spend!” He ends with a grin. “Except for you, Ushiwaka. Take all the time so you can bring us good food.” All of them laugh at this, even though Ushijima’s expression doesn’t change. 

They pick up their student ID’s and a maps of the school. 

“You know what else we should do?” Kuroo says. “Job hunting.” Oikawa lets out a hiss at this.

“I only have time Sunday mornings” Daichi says. “The only other time I have is after evening practices.”

“My dad sends me money” Bokuto casually mentions. “My sisters too for some reason. I don’t have to work yet, I think.”

“So you’re a genius, you’re loaded because your family spoils you, you were a top five ace, anything else you want to pop on us?” Oikawa teases. 

The teen hums and then his eyes brighten. “Oh, right! I did ballet before my mom died when I turned ten and I started playing volleyball!” Daichi lets out a cough to hide the strangled noise Kuroo makes. 

“Oh, sorry” Oikawa says. “I, your mom, I uh” Bokuto waves him off. 

“Hey hey, no worries! I don’t really remember a lot about her or how she died. I still practice ballet once in a while because it keeps my joints and muscles nice and strong.” He ends with putting his hands on his hips, beaming proudly. 

“How come I’m just learning all of this now” Kuroo says. “Anyway, I grabbed some pamphlets about the on-campus jobs they offer students, like manning coffee stands and stuff. We can go grab brunch and look over them?”

“Food” Daichi simply says “Can solve any problem. Do you know any place nearby?” Kuroo nods. 

“There’s a whole street of restaurants about a twenty minute walk that way. I’ve gone there a few times. Lots of variety. And Ushijima, Sawamura: stay in front of us. We are not losing you two again.”

The five head down the street, Kuroo acting like an enthusiastic tour guide. Daichi, Ushijima, and Oikawa peer into the store windows a lot because the things on display look very eccentric, so much different than the stores back home. 

The walk lasts a little longer than expected but they finally make into a restaurant. It’s american styled and the air smells good. Daichi’s mouth waters. 

“Hey! YAKKUN!” Kuroo calls out. None of the patrons look up at this, as if it were a usual occurrence, and a waiter who was about to take them just rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. 

“Yakkun” Daichi thinks. “Wasn’t he your libero?” Kuroo eagerly nods. 

“Yeah. He’s been working here on weekends since the start of our third year and he usually works weekdays on breaks. He got into the University of Tokyo.” Daichi nods. Right after that the boy in question rounds the corner and hurries to them. 

“Kuroo!” Yaku grins. 

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto calls, bounding forward to hug the shorter teen. 

“Hello to you too” Yakku says. Then his gaze floats over to the Miyagi trio and he smiles when he recognizes Daichi. “Sawamura! What are you doing here in Tokyo? Even better, why choose to spend your time with this trash cat.” Oikawa snorts. 

“We’re actually his roommates” Daichi says, rubbing the back of his neck. Yaku laughs. 

“I wish you all luck, then. Five, right?” Kuroo nods. “Great!” He grabs some menus and leads them to a booth. Ushijima and Bokuto sit on one side while Kuroo, Oikawa, and Daichi squeeze into the other side, Oikawa sandwiched between the two. 

Bokuto eagerly flips through the menu, oohing and aahing over the different foods. He leans over to Ushijima, pointing out different foods and asking him what they are, partially struggling to pronounce the names of the foods written in katakana. 

Yaku comes back after a few minutes to take their drink and food orders. Bokuto and Oikawa both order some insanely sweet drinks while Ushijima gets tea and Kuroo and Daichi order sodas. Then they place their orders, Daichi ordering two separate meals for himself. Then Kuroo takes the pamphlets out of his bag and puts them on the table along with his schedule. The others also take their schedules out. 

“I can work at the Starbucks” Daichi says. “It pays by the hour so the schedule is pretty accommodating.” 

“Sunday mornings?” Kuroo asks. Daichi nods. 

“One of my professors for my cooking courses needs someone to do things such as setting up stations and purchasing ingredients for him.” Ushijima points to a sheet of paper that had been folded between the pages of a pamphlet. “The time is very lenient and seeing as we don’t really need a lot of money, it is a wise choice.”

“But what if we want to go on vacation together?” Bokuto says. “Like remember how we might go on a roadtrip or something in winter break?”

“I thought we were hosting a training camp” Oikawa whines. “But both of those are fun. . .” Yaku comes back with their drinks and they thank him, Oikawa sipping from the straw at a constant pace, a thoughtful look on his face. 

“We’ll see what we do when we get there” Daichi sighs. “For now, don’t you guys want that TV?” Kuroo straightens up.

“Heck yeah we need a TV.” Kuroo quickly shuffles through the pile and takes out a pamphlet. “The boring but surprisingly high paying job that is known as organizing and filing for the professors. Lenient times. I can listen to music. We’ll be well on our way to getting that TV.” Oikawa sighs.

“I guess I’ll join Dai-chan at Starbucks. Maybe I’ll get coffee as well. I’m the only smart one here who decided to keep their Sunday nice and open.”

“And boring” Bokuto says. 

“What are you going to do with all of us gone?” Kuroo grins and Oikawa pouts in his seat, sliding down. 

“Mean” he huffs. “You guys are worst than Iwa-chan.” With that, Kuroo shuffles the ignored pamphlets into a pile, shoving them to the side. The five of them start talking about the friends they left behind (but not really). Ushijima doesn’t talk that much but when he does, it’s interesting. They learn that while he was in Shiratorizawa, Tendou would drag him out to go horseback riding. They fell a bunch of times until someone from the equestrian club volunteered to teach them. Iwaizumi always knew when Oikawa was having a bad day somehow and he’d always be there to offer Oikawa something to make him feel better. Bokuto proudly went on a rant about how smart and awesome Akaashi is and they all honestly felt the relationship the two had to be endearing. Akaashi did follow Bokuto into University. Kuroo talked about his team and how they acted so happy that even though Kuroo is still in Tokyo he still lived far away from the Nekoma area but they were actually crying (mainly Taketora) when he left. Daichi talked about his team and how they researched their dorm and made bets on how many roommates he was going to have. 

“But they don’t know yet, do they” Kuroo says. “Bad, Sawamura. You have to tell your team so they know who won.” Daichi rolls his eyes but pulls his phone out, opening the Karasuno chat. It’s been strangely quiet since he left and told them he wouldn’t really be able to text this first week. 

**Daichi: You win the bet if you guessed I was going to have four roommates.**

**Hinata: DAICHI-SAN! YOURE ALIVE**

**Kiyoko: Out of the people who participated in the bet, Yachi won**

**Tanaka: KIYOKO-SAN**

**Noya: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 **

Daichi chuckles. Kuroo turns his head.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” Daichi shakes his head. 

“Two of my second y- well, third years now. They love Kiyoko. She was our manager.” A wistful look crosses Oikawa’s face. 

“Ah, you had a manager.”

“A female manager” Kuroo sighs. “She was pretty good lookin too, not going to lie.”

“Is the chat interesting?” Oikawa asks. He puts his head on Daichi’s shoulder and reads the previous messages and watches as Daichi types. 

**Daichi: What’s the prize?**

**Kiyoko: Three meat buns and a brand new volleyball**

**Hinata: Daichi-san what r u doing?**

**Daichi: I’m having brunch with my roommates. We just went and got our brunch. One of**

**them is watching me text like a creeaddsgspopompasakknpkpjnibjnono**

**Suga: Daichi?**

Daichi glares at Oikawa who just flashes a peace sign before putting his thumbs on the keyboard. 

**Daichi: Yoo hoo~ ! this is dai-chans #! Fav roomie**

**Kageyama: who r u**

Oikawa’s expressions sours. Daichi snorts. He can guess who just replied. 

**Daichi: : (**

**Daichi: don’t i deserve proper spelling?**

**Suga: Ah, Kawa, I’m going to guess?**

“The heck” Oikawa mutters. “Dai-chan, mister Refreshing is a wizard or something. There’s no way he knew that could of been me.” Kuroo leans over to look at the screen. 

“Nah” Kuroo says. “Ushijima probably spells in complete sentences, Bo uses too much all caps, and mine is just chill. Plus, I can visualize you talking like that.” Daichi snatches the phone back. 

**Daichi: Sorry about that. How has the past two days been for all of you?**

**Hinata: GREAT! MY MOM SAYS I have 2 go school shopping 2day but its too early and i**

**wanna practice 2day**

**Hinata: can you text her plz?**

**Daichi: Hinata, you should listen to your mother.**

_Ring ring ring_

Daichi sighs and accepts the call but a soft smile grows on his face. 

“Hello Hinata” he says. 

“DADCHI!” Hinata shouts, loud enough for the rest of his table to hear and snicker. Daichi winces. 

“A little more quietly, Hinata. I’m in public, remember?” 

“Oh, sorry.” Hinata says, not sounding sorry at all. “Anyway, I _really_ don’t want to go shopping today because Bakageyama-”

“Don’t call him Bakageyama. It’s impolite. You’re friends now.”

“But it’s like a nickname!” Hinata whines. “That’s what he said when I told him to stop calling me boke but now I know that I am boke and not as an insult. It just sort of became our thing.” Daichi chuckles. Only those two, only those two. 

“Okay, then it’s alright. Hinata, if you go shopping today then you don’t have to worry about it for the rest of break. And school is going to start in about two weeks. You don’t want to stress later.”

He adjusts the straw of his drink and sips on his soda, waiting for Hinata’s reply. 

“That makes LOTS of sense!” Hinata exclaims. “I have another question. I was going to ask Kiyoko-san but I don’t really know how to ask her, and I was going to ask Suga-san but he’d probably tease me.” Daichi lets out a hum while taking sip of his soda to tell Hinata to keep on talking. “Anyway, Kageyama gave me a rose yesterday and his face turned really red and then he left. What do I do?” The soda goes down the wrong pipe and he coughs, hacking. ““DAICHI-SAN! Are you okay?” Oikawa thumps Daichi on the back and he rasps a thank you. 

“What happened?” Oikawa asks. Daichi’s face is red from the short period of oxygen starvation. 

“Kageyama gave Hinata a rose and then walked away” Daichi rasps. Oikawa’s eyes widen and his eyes glaze over. 

“Okay, I’m fine now” Daichi rasps into the phone. He coughs, wincing at the small pang of pain. “I would, um. . .” he sighs. “How do you feel about your relationship?”

“I like it.”

“Do you feel like you want to spend a lot of time with Kageyama? Do you know a lot about him?”

“Yes and yes.” Hinata says. “But what does this have to do with the rose? I’m just really confused about that. It’s a really nice flower too. My mom put it in a vase so it doesn’t die.” Daichi thinks that what he thinks is right. He tries thinking back to every interaction he’s seen between Kageyama and Hinata. It’s made out of just mutually getting in each others orbit whenever they’re together, filled with pokes and unconscious teasing and insults. Like how Kuroo was like with Daichi during the training camps and practice matches. 

“He likes you, Hinata” Daichi says. “More than a friend. He likes you how those girls feel like when they give a boy a confession letter. That rose is his confession letter.” There’s silence on the other end. “Hinata, it’s alright if you don’t feel the same wa-”

“Oh, I do!” Hinata exclaims. “I have a confession letter and everything but I didn’t really know when to give. So he just beat me?” He huffs. “That idiot! He could of been smoother. And a rose doesn’t even tell me anything- I had a nice letter and everything!” Daichi’s eye twitches. 

“Hinata Shouyou” He says “ _After_ you get your school supplies- _after_ you get them, not before, go to Kageyama’s house, give him the letter, and tell him to read it in front of you.”

“And what will happen next?” Hinata sounds nervous. 

“It’s different for everyone” Daichi says. “But I have a good feeling about this. Don’t stress yourself too much, alright?”

“Okay!” Hinata chirps. “Thank you Dadchi!”

“I still can’t believe Noya got that to spread” Daichi sighs, thinking Hinata won’t hear it. 

“But you really _are_ Dadchi” Hinata defends. “I’m going to call you dad now. My dad is always at work and he only gives me money for Christmas and my birthday but you actually gave me a present. I’m going to call you dad now. Ooh, I think Kageyama and Tadashi might do the same. I’m going to go text them. Bye Dad!” And the phone call ends. Daichi slides his phone into his pocket. 

“Soooo. Are chibi-chan and Tobio-chan getting together?” Oikawa asks. Daichi nods. 

“Hinata, that idiot. He had a letter written for Kageyama already.” Oikawa’s eyes narrow and Daichi sees Yaku coming towards their table with food. 

“There’s something else” Oikawa prods. “Spill.”

“I became a dad” Daichi says. “Hinata is going to call me dad now and he’s trying to get the other former first years on the same boat.”

“That is a wise decision” Ushijima says. “It has one less syllable than Dadchi.”

“Let me eat in peace” Daichi groans but his mood brightens when he sees the colorful plate set in front of him. He immediately grabs his chopsticks and then realizes one can’t really eat pancakes with chopsticks. 

* * *

Links to their schedules:

[Bokuto's Schedule](https://imgur.com/T2nozsj)

[Kuroo's Schedule](https://imgur.com/RyfYndV)

[Oikawa's Schedule](https://imgur.com/MZZmk9k)

[Sawamura's Schedule](https://imgur.com/gni3kfK)

[Ushijima's Schedule](https://imgur.com/vwv6nrX)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put in a very subtle KuroDai reference, but since Daichi is oblivious, he didn't notice it. Did any of you spot it ? (・ω<)☆  
> Also, I spent two hours yesterday researching courses for each of their major and then suitable lengths of each class, how college even works since I'm still in HS, and also shuffling things around so our boys can have classes together


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which jobs and TV’s are discussed, the university’s name is finally revealed, and the boys have their first volleyball practice. It turns out their new team is probably just as chaotic as they are.

The next few days were mostly spent getting to know each other, as well as the five becoming strangely domestic. 

Daichi and Oikawa went together to apply for jobs at the same on-campus Starbucks. It happened to have a nice rock garden and koi pond with an outdoor seating area. The two spent the time before their first day of university volleyball began so they could finish training. It became a competition between the two, trying to see who could memorize the most drinks the fastest. Oikawa could make more drinks in a set amount of time but Daichi’s drinks had a higher quality. 

Kuroo, just like his job description said, was able to head to work anytime of the day. He grumbled about how no matter what there was always something that needed to be organized. And that for how prim professors may look on the outside, they are actually slobs hellbent on making the unofficial TAs’ lives harder. But he came back after a little over an hour and a half with his phone out of battery and a check for 1800 yen. Bokuto took the check down to the library, had a copy made of it, and then put it on the fridge with one of the many owl-themed magnets he has for some reason. 

Ushijima, it turns out, was adept at interior design. One of his boxes were packed with a dozen little potted succulents, which he spread around the apartment. The study nook was cleaned and Ushijima gathered everybody’s leisure books so he could organize them in the bookshelves in there. The kitchen was also organized, picture frames were bought for future use, two soft throw blankets were purchased and divided amongst the two couches.

Everynight had Ushijima practicing his cooking skills, Daichi at his side as the two of them somehow managed to make enough food for five athletes with large appetites thanks to that. They picked up their textbooks, paid for by their scholarship. The time after dinner was spent on the longest couch and the floor in front of it, with Oikawa’s laptop plugged in and resting on the coffee table, a DVD from either his or Bokuto’s collection playing. It almost always ended with Bokuto falling asleep on whoever was sitting next to him, trapping them for the rest of the night. 

At the moment, Bokuto’s most recent action has all five of the circled around the coffee table, looking down at the piece of white paper with the outline of a thermometer and a large number written in hot pink highlighter. 

“I come back with an almost two-thousand yen check” Kuroo says “And you think we need  _ two hundred-thousand  _ for a TV!?”

“Not just any TV” Bokuto corrects “An 80-inch flatscreen LED TV.” Daichi’s eyes narrow. 

“Eighty inches. . .how much is that?”

“Why would we need an 80-inch TV?” Kuroo nearly yells “The heck- the one I have back home is a fifty!” Oikawa quickly motions how big an eighty inch TV would be and then how bug a forty inch is to a confused Daichi. “Seriously- why would we need a screen that big?”

“Well, you don’t want to strain your eyes. And the image quality is good! We’re going to have to enjoy this TV for four more years! We want  _ zero  _ regrets.”

“What’s the price difference?” Daichi asks. “If Kuroo worked ninety minutes for eighteen hundred yen, then to get two hundred thousand, he’d have to work at least a hundred hours. Oikawa, Ushijima, and myself can pay for consumables and Bokuto can take care of the rest.”

“The most popular television size, forty inches, would cost forty-thousand.” 

“I can contribute to buying the TV too!” Bokuto inputs before Daichi could side with Kuroo. “I have, like, fifty-thousand from my sisters and dad from right before I left. Should I just through all of that in?”

Oikawa shakes his head. “This place is still looking kind of bland and you need money to buy anything the scholarship doesn’t cover in terms of materials. For yourself and Tetsu-kun since he’s paying for our TV.”

“One hundred hours” Kuroo pouts. 

“I think thirty-thousand is an appropriate amount to invest” Ushijima says. “That would leave Bokuto with twenty-thousand yen. It would also reduce his work time to approximately” he takes a moment to do the mental math “eighty-five hours. If he works an hour a day, five days a week, we will be able to purchase the television in-”

“Seventeen days” Kuroo gasps. “That’s, like. . .not even three weeks!” He strokes his chin. “And it this TV turns out to actually be good” a new light enters his eyes “I’ll get us that money in  _ less  _ than seventeen days, mark my words!” Oikawa takes the marker abandoned on the corner of the table and kneels, somehow drawing a perfectly straight mark at one of the tic marks on the thermometer outline, writing  _ 30000  _ next to it before scribbling in the white. 

“Just looking at that was strangely satisfying” Daichi says. “Anyway, Oikawa. Want to go and practice those cappuccios?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I  _ suck _ at those.”

* * *

  
  


When Friday finally came, they were ready. Volleyball shoes had been washes and dried, the coziest pair of socks selected, duffles packed and organized, consent and safety forms signed out and already delivered to the athletics department for someone (probably Kuroo) to file. 

It’s almost seven in the morning when Oikawa turns off his phone (their source of direction) so they can stare at the building in front of them.

“Oh.” Daichi says. “Wow.” The building is tall.  _ Very  _ tall. It doesn’t look like it has a second floor but it’s taller than two floors. It large enough to be a stadium. Even larger, maybe. It’s definitely, somehow, larger than where they had nationals. 

“This is larger than Shiratorizawa’s, isn’t it” Oikawa says. Ushijima also looks shocked and in awe with the building. 

The front has three areas for ticket booths. About eight feet above the booth windows is a large sign, reading in large letters:

**TEIKOKU VOLLEYBALL STADIUM**

The front doors are unlocked. When they get closer, the doors slide open. 

The interior of the building is even more impressive than the outside. The lobby is large with a help center, a gift shop, jerseys hung on the wall as well as a glass display showing off the surprising amount of awards the University got in regards of volleyball for just having opened less than five years ago. The area has the school’s colors flaunted about: Red, gold, black, and white. White marble floor,gold accents, letters written in red, areas of black here and there. According to an informative map, the visiting teams’ locker room areas have their own entrance at a different part of the stadium.

From at the sides of the lobby and the front are one sliding doors and two tinted doors. The center one is locked and apparently leads to a hallway which will take one to public bathroom,the bleachers of the main court (they can’t wait to see how that looks like) as well as to the back where there is an enclosed outdoor area where beach volleyball competitions are also held. 

The two doors to the sides aren’t sliding doors and can’t be accessed by the public but only by staff, coaches, and players. They’re tinted dark, the other side hidden from public view. The left hall is identical to the right hall except for gender: the left hall has the womens’ team’s bathrooms and lockerrooms while the right hall has the mens’ teams. Even though the stadium is shared with the beach volleyball team, they have their own practice beach volleyball court, workout/fitness areas, lounge, and practice courts.Both halls also lead to the main court. 

With how the interior and exterior look so far, it will probably be beautiful. Large and new and beautiful and absolutely stunning. 

Kuroo confidently leads the way, taking his student ID card out and holding it in front of the sensor. It lets out a happy  _ beep  _ and the door opens inwards on its own while the little screen on the sensor starts counting down from ten. 

“Come on: hurry!” Kuroo beckons. Bokuto just makes it in before the door quickly closes on its own. Daichi looks over his shoulder and one can see the main lobby in perfect clarity, if not a shade darker because of the tint. 

The hall has the same color scheme. Marble has been exchanged for white tile, white walls colored by volleyball-related photos, posters, and a tricolor stripe of red, black, and gold that runs down the hall and through doors and around bends. 

It also smells mildly of Air Salonpas. Comforting. 

“What next Kuroo” Oikawa asks. Kuroo sends him a look. 

“Why are you asking me? Didn’t you read the instructions too?”

“Yeah, I did, but you’re leading the way!” He states. “You chose this job when you used your ID card.”

“No I didn’t. I did something once so it’s  _ your  _ turn.”

“I used my phone and led us here!”

“Too bad.”

“No, too bad for  _ you _ .”

“ _ Be quiet _ ” Daichi snaps, adjusting his duffle. “We go to the locker room. Our assigned locker will be on the door. Key’s will be set outside on a table as well as name sheet to confirm you got your key. Put your stuff in, switch shoes, knee pads, brace” he directs the last one at Oikawa, “And then. . .we head to the tournament court.” Bokuto’s head snaps towards him. 

“The tournament court? Not the practice courts?”

“So you didn’t read the instructions?” Kuroo smirks. Bokuto shrugs. 

“No need if I was going to be with you guys. Now come on! I really want to see how the main court looks like. Imagine how  _ big  _ it would be!”

“I am interested as well” Ushijima supports. They continue to the locker room and everything Daichi said was true. They got their key, crossed out their name. The room is spacious, with a decently sized bath area, a row of showers, urinals and bathroom stalls, benches, and two walls with lockers. The five of them got lockers next to each other, Oikawa’s located next to Ushijima’s to the others’ amusement. Changes of clothes are organized in the lockers with bath and personal hygiene products. Knee pads are silently slipped on and shoes are exchanged, laces tied. 

The tournament court, the main section of this whole building, is located at the center. In order to go there, the players can’t just take their private hallway, but they have to exit the locker room from a separate door. You have to take a right which will lead you down a hallway with white floors and black walls and ceiling to a pair of wooden doors at the very end, little more than a ten meter walk. It’s dimly lit, only one light a quarter way down the hall. 

“Teikoku University” Kuroo muses. “It’s like we entered some drama sports movie.” They walk down the hallway and Bokuto nearly kicks down the doors too. They open the doors. 

The sounds of chatter and shoes squeaking and balls slamming meet their ears, light shining down at them as they journey past the raised seating on either side of the entrance. 

It is huge. Larger, if not as big, as the stadium where Karasuno, Fukurodani, Nekoma, and Shiratorizawa played on at least once. 

“If you went to Shiratorizawa” Daichi says “You could of played on a court like this at least once in your life.” Oikawa just smiles even more. 

They emerge from a corner of the stadium. 

There are four ball carts out, net gleaming. There are people spiking balls across the net while others would receive the balls at random on the other side. The bleachers are pulled out and there are so many rows of seating. The bottom portion of the arena has bright red chairs while the upper section, which can probably only be reached by some staircase or elevator seemingly located past the center door in the lobby, has black chairs. High above the middle of the court are four screens which create a box sort of area, looking more like very oversized TV’s rather than scoreboards even though. Daichi recognizes the setup from professional matches, displaying to the audience located father from the court what is happening as well as what the score is. On one end of the arena the national flag hangs. 

“Hey, it’s the fresh meat!” Someone calls out. 

“Oh my god, they’re so  _ tiny _ !” Someone else squeals. It’s a bit unnerving since their voice is deeper than Ushijima’s. “Especially the one in orange. I want him. He looks adorable.”

“Shove off man. I’m a year older-  _ I  _ get first pick on who my kouhai is gonna’ be!”

Daichi looks down at himself and reminds himself that he’s the only one wearing an orange shirt out of the five. 

“We need to protect Sawamura” Kuroo loudly whispers. 

“Yes” Bokuto loudly whispers back. “They’re going to kill him.”

“Protect the young” Oikawa joins. 

“I don’t need protecting” Daichi nearly growls. “I’m mature than all of you.”

“They’re behavior is disconcerting” Ushijima inputs. 

“All of you are the first years, yes? Unless you’re one of the older kids and got a bunch of facial surgery over break.” Balls stop flying as a man who looks to be in his late forties, the coach, approaches the five. The five of them bow and he chuckles. “It’s so nice getting respect. I’m coach Kaiba, you can just call me coach . I’ve been with this team of idiots since the school opened. I coached at Waseda for seven years before that.” They all straighten up. 

“Coach!” Bokuto squeaks. “Wow, you’re awesome!” The coach shakes his head. 

“You’ll learn this soon on our team, but all I really do is give advice and help keep practice organized. The boys. . .they’re something else. I took a look at you kiddos files and took the time to look you guys up. Our team is based off of individual drive and combined talent. We’re not some militaristic strict show like, say, Chuo. And we still managed to beat them in a deuce last winter.” He beacons at two people, one of which happens to be the person awing over Daichi. “Let me introduce you to our captain and vice. It seems like you made an impression on our vice already, Sawamura.”

“You know my name?” Daichi asks, unable to hold back the question. The coach nods. 

“More that too. I may be old but I wasn’t at Waseda for nothing.” He points at each of them. “Bokuto Koutarou, Fukurodani’s captain, ranked fourth best ace in the nation, second place at Spring nationals, amazingly powerful spikes.” Bokuto’s eyes brighten even more. “Kuroo Tetsurou, middle blocker, captain of Nekoma, played in the Spring Nationals, nice hair.” Kuroo looks smug. “Oikawa Tooru, setter, captain of Aoba Johsai, your jump serves made our setters jealous.” Then he looks at Daichi. “Sawamura Daichi, wing spiker but it seemed like you specialized more in defense, captain of Karasuno, Spring Final quarterfinalists, and our libero for the season it seems. And Ushijima Wakatoshi, ranked third best ace in the nation, powerful lefty, always made it to nationals but then this guy stopped you.” He nods at Daichi. “It’s funny that all of you are captains, but it’s even better that it’s not just your personality that got you that tital. Talking about captains, HURRY UP YOU FOOL!”

“Sorry sorry!” One of them says, speeding up from a walk to nearly a run, abruptly stopping next to the coach. He holds his hand out, the second student right behind him. “Aki Hideo, captain of the Teikoku mens’ volleyball team. Call me Hideo- my sis got out of the womb before me so she gets the family name.” He shakes each of their hands, grip tight and energetic. He looks just like his sister, with almost the same face, but same eyes, smile, and even bleached hair, although his bangs are a bit shorter. “And this is our vice captain, Kamimura Juno.” The guy is tall. Too tall. As in taller than Dateko and around 200 centimeters tall. 

“Call me Kami” he beams and Daichi wonders if this is how a fusion of Asahi and Noya would be like. He shakes their hands too and points at Daichi. “ _ You _ , you’re going to be a middle blocker, right?” Daichi blinks. 

“Um, er”

“I’m a middle blocker” Kuroo smoothly says. Kami brightens. 

“Nice! That’s awesome!” Then he looks back at Daichi, bending down so that he’s almost at eye level. “Are you interested in becoming a middle blocker? I like your shirt too. Orange is a cool color although I prefer a nice yellow-green, like an old leaf. What’s your name?”

“It’s, um, Sawamura. Sawamura Daichi.” He says. “Sorry, I’m not interested in becoming a middle blocker. I’m training to be libero this season.”

“GREAT!” Hideo nearly shouts. “Sawamura! My sis told me about you. Her kouhai is my kouhai.” He looks up at the coach. “Coach, I’m taking this kid from your hands whether you like it or not. He’s mine.”

“Hey hey hey Daichi’s ours!” Bokuto pouts but then Hideo grabs his sleeve as well as Daichi’s. 

“Then I’ll take you too. Top five, right? I want to see your spike!” 

“ _ Hideo _ ” the coach sighs. 

“Yes coach?”

“Divide everyone up and get six people on each side of the court. And get the practice jerseys out. We need to evaluate these guys’ skill. Have Jin play libero on one side and we’ll have Sawamura be the other teams’.” The coach looks down at Daichi. “I’m guessing you know the rules of the position?” Daichi nods. “Good. Now go get a jersey.”

“This is moving. . .fast.” Oikawa says. Bookuto nods but he’s a kilometers per hour short of vibrating out of his own skin. He looks around the court, and then the seating, and then the rafters. “I love this place” he whispers. “Wish I had my phone. Then I could get a picture for Iwa-chan.”

“We can come back later!” Bokuto claps Oikawa across the back, causing the setter to hack. “Now lets go get divided up! I’ve played a few practice matches against a few college teams but not from school  _ this  _ big. It’s’ going to be awesome! And do you think Daichi will be able to do that weird backward jump set thingie?”

“Nope” Daichi says. “I’m not risking injury on the first day.”

In a move of some sort of brilliance, Daichi’s team has Oikawa and Bokuto. Daichi stands in the middle of the back row. The rotation has Oikawa serving first. 

“Do the thing from prefecturals” Daichi grins at him when Oikawa is within listening distance. Oikawa’s grin is sharp and predatory. 

The other team, except for the other three first-years, don’t even blink when one moment Oikawa’s hand is about to hit the ball and the next it’s hitting just within the edge of the court. 

They blink two seconds after that. 

“ _ Woah _ ” someone on the other team says. A few others let out some whistles. “That was. . .woah.” Oikawa grins. 

“Hey, Jin, think you can get that?”

“Yeah” a man in the same position as Daichi says. He looks Korean, with pastel pink hair and almond shaped dark eyes, his voice reminding Daichi of Oikawa and Suga. Oikawa serves again, relaxed now that he’s served his team one point. He aims it at Bokuto and Daichi thinks that’s a cruel mood, trying to get Bokuto into one of his dejected modes. 

Right when Oikawa jumps up, Jin speaks. 

“Owl guy, move to the side!” Bokuto blinks but quickly moves and Oikawa’s hand comes down, ball flying across the court, only to be received. 

“Chance ball!” 

Oikawa’s face doesn’t stay shocked for long, instead changing to the look one gets when facing a challenge. 

The practice match lasts five sets. Five, long sets, most of which end in deuces well into the thirties. Daichi is sweating and he treasure his water breaks. The opposing team won. That had Bokuto nearly flying out of sheer happiness. Daichi’s just happy he didn’t go into his dejected mode. 

“Hello, Sawamura-san.” Daichi looks up to meet the eyes of the other team’s pink-haired libero. Jin. He holds a hand out. “Jin Seo-jun.” Daichi gets up and holds a hand out. 

“Sawamura Daichi. There’s no need for honorifics, Jin-san.” Jin returns his smile. 

“Then I must say the same.” His voice is smooth and his smile reminds him of Kiyoko’s: small, true, and rare. “I am a second year majoring in music. My instrument of focus is the violin. Sometimes I may not speak the right words. I only learned Japanese five years ago when I moved here.”

“Ah, no worried!” Daichi says. “Your Japanese is fine. My mom had me take violin class in elementary school.” Jin cocks his head, eyes shining. 

“You play?”

“Not really anymore. I used to play as a hobby after I quit classes but I stopped my second year of high school.” Jin looks disappointed. 

“That is a shame. Although, if you would like, I could occasionally take you to the music department after our libero training. The captain makes me take him there often since he is rather fond of making the harp out of tune.” Daichi chuckles. 

“Sounds good.” Jin nods.

“Anyway, now that we are acquainted, I can tell you about the areas where I think you need improvement.”

While Jin explains the finer points of being a college libero as well as what he needs to change, Kuroo is becoming acquainted with the team’s middle blockers, the setters and some of the wing spikers are gwahing over Oikawa’s serves, and Ushijima and Bokuto have been corralled by everyone else to continue spiking and see who can receive their spikes the most without their arms going numb. 

On the side, the coach stands with his assistant coach, a dark haired bilingual englishman, who arrived shortly before the end of the first set. 

“So what do you think, Williams?” The assistant coach adjusts his glasses. 

“Director Aki’s email was wrong about these five, especially Sawamura” Williams says. “These five have already bonded. Their skills are impressive for only being first years. Jin is very reluctant about playing libero, although he has the skill. He and I will be able to make Sawamura into a skilled libero by our first practice match.”

“And did your meeting with our manager-to-be go well?” Williams nods. 

“Akaashi. He is very kind and polite. Remember how Jin was his first year?” Coach nods. “He’s just like that. Smart kid too- he’s supposed to be in high school still.”

“Did he play volleyball?”

“Yes. Setter. He was Bokuto’s setter.” Realization crosses the coach’s face. 

“Ah. No wonder I keep on hearing Bokuto telling his team’s setter that his sets were awesome and all but he should see  _ his  _ Akaashi’s sets.” Williams snickers. “I’m assuming he might play next year?”

“Perhaps. I should hope so. It will be interesting to see how Bokuto’s dynamic will change when Akaashi starts his job as manager next week.” There’s suddenly a lot of cheering. The two coaches look over to see most of the team cheering and egging Bokuto on as he creeps towards the group of setters. Then Bokuto suddenly grabs Oikawa, slinging him over his back, cackling as he starts running, the setters feet kicking and arms flailing. The cheering increases ten-fold. The middle blockers cackle like a pack of hyenas. 

“This year is going to be interesting” Williams says when Oikawa slaps Bokuto’s butt, causing the spiker to yelp and tumble to the ground. Oikawa starts tickling him, telling him to yield, but Bokuto just cries out “Never!” and starts tickling him back, which turns into wrestling, with the team slowly starting to form a circle around them. 

“Maybe I should of done rugby instead in high school” Williams muses. 

“Hell no” Coach says. “At least you kind of understand these strays.” He moves his neck and a crack sound comes. “This is Teikoku. For a university that sounds so pompous, our mens’ team is really putting a twist on expectations.”

“If only they could be like, say, the badminton team” Williams sighs. 

“Then they’d be boring. Be happy that our team isn’t a bunch of stuck-up lords but instead a bunch of kings that anyone would like.” The Coach looks around and focuses on Kideo, Kami, and Jin, the three of them talking to Sawamura. He seems short next to the captain and his vice but he’s the same height as Jin. 

“Sawamura’s the one that Hideo ranted about after his sister ranted about him?” 

“Yes. He might of claimed Sawamura to take under his wing but I think Jin might win in the end. He and Sawamura are getting along rather nicely.”

“So you don’t feel angry about the team moving the first day of practice to today behind your back?”

“No, I’m angry at them. Just because they want to race to get first picks on the first years doesn’t mean they should just move practice up a few days.”

“The difference between Saturday and Friday is one day.”

“Still. Well, look at that. Bokuto won.” They refocus on the tickle/wrestling match that had been going over. Oikawa is collapsed on his stomach with Bokuto proudly sitting on him, chatting the ear off the closest person. “These five, they’ll look nice in red, black, and gold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me _so long_ to try and find a nice sounding name for the university. Yes, if you look up what teikoku means (empire, imperial) it seems rather pompous, but ignore the meaning. Just say "teikoku". It sounds nice, just like how Waseda, Chuo, and Meiji roll of the tongue. I also decided the color scheme of red, black, and gold because Daichi is (obviously) my favorite and was imagining him in something like an inverted Nekoma uniform with gold one day and I was like "these colors look nice". 
> 
> Um, comment below if you want an OC? The OCs are minor- they're going to be the people on the volleyball team. Don't make their background super intensive. All I need is stuff like physical characteristic, name, and personality. Don't put down uniform number b/c I'll do that later. It should go like this (example is how I have Jin down in my notes):
> 
> Jin Seo-jun (#4)  
>  WS, Libero training  
>  Korean, pastel pink hair, dark eyes; not talkative but smiles a lot  
>  2nd year; music major with instrumental focus being the violin


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima gets a chapter  
> What is Tendou up to?  
> And a familiar face in the form of the calculus professor. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my Ushijima becomes more in-character now: I’m a few episodes into season 3 so I have a feel for how he talks, behaves, and interacts.
> 
> If you want to talk about Daichi and Haikyuu with me:  
> https://discord.gg/ujxmkQ4

The week of practice was exhilarating. Even Ushijima would agree to it. 

At first, he had no intention of going to university. He had gotten scholarship offers to schools such as Chuo and Waseda, but he had denied them. After he had graduated from Shiratorizawa, he had gone out with the rest of the third years of his team. “One last hurrah” according to Satori. He had walked his best friend back home and the two of them had promised to keep in contact. And Ushijima was doing that. He sent his friend a “good morning” and “good night” text everyday. Some days there would be a conversation, sometimes they wouldn’t be. Satori would always text a “good morning” and “good night” (usually accompanied by a series of emoji’s) but when he would would vary. 

Satori went to Europe. Not for university, but he was able to score an apprenticeship with a chocolatier who is traveling across the continent. It was always fun, seeing the photos Satori would send everyday. It was sad that he wasn’t continuing volleyball seriously, but the first country his plane landed in, where he would be meeting his mentor, was in Belgium. And the photos he had sent were in the dozens, including Satori playing a match of street-soccer. 

He was going to try-out for a professional team. Quite a few professional teams had sent him invitations for their tryouts, ranging from the Sendai City Frogs to the MSBY Black Jackals, the only division 1 team that invited him for try-outs. They were a relatively new team but they were doing well. It was the day before he was going to get on a train to Osaka where their tryouts were being held that year when he got the invitation.

There was something about it that intrigued him. The paper wasn’t cheap but it wasn’t too-fancy. The words were simple, the request was straight to the point without any rarely-used kanji that required him to pull out his phone. Even more surprising had been the signature at the bottom, not stamped on the paper but clearly hand-written. His mother’s sister. 

And from there led to the research. Looking up Teikoku University, remembering when his aunt visited the spring of his second year, thinking about if she ever indicated if she wanted him to come to Teikoku. 

Then he looked up Teikoku university team. Some names he could recognize from his years of being an avid follower of the volleyball world. The team’s captain used to go to Fukurodani academy and they won at the summer tournament his second year. Their setter had been on the national youth team. A lot of the other players also had notable accomplishments but what was the most intriguing was the fact that all of those players had tried out for the team. Ushijima had looked down at the letter. Their volleyball team never invited people onto their team. . .

So how is this in his hands?

The next day he didn’t wake up early to go to Osaka. He woke up early to catch his mother before she went to work and told her how he was interested in going to Teikoku to further his volleyball skills before going professional. 

For the first time in so long, his mother called in a vacation day and spent the day with Ushijima. They went over what major he would like to pursue (culinary, because he always did cook when he came home and so that he would have another thing to share with Satori), purchasing train tickers, emailing his aunt that he would be accepting the scholarship, and then taking him out for an activity and then dinner. Ushijima re-learned that he is horrible at bowling. 

Tryout for the team had been held already by the time he and his roommates started the week of practice. The Korean boy who had befriended Sawamura-no, Daichi (Daichi, he prefers to be called Daichi) and all of the others who had been there on Friday had made it onto the team. There was also a fourth-year pinch server who made it onto the team who had apparently not been on the team last year due to studying abroad for a year before returning. 

The schedule for the week, for him, went like so:

6:00 - Wake up, have a glass of water, stretch, and head for a jog

6:40 - do his cool down stretches, return to his dorm? Home? He should call it his home now, shower

7:00 - Get something non-caffeinated out for Bokuto, who is always the first person to wake up while never using an alarm clock, start on a light breakfast for everyone

7:00 - 9:00 - Keep food warm while either Oikawa or Daichi wake up next, Kuroo usually always waking up last but always the most awake besides Bokuto

9:45 - Begin his walk to the practice courts in the considerable arena while having some very interesting conversations with his roommates

10:00 AM - 8:00 PM - volleyball practice with occasional ten minute breaks scattered throughout

Around noon for an hour - lunch

Post-practice: Dinner, chatting, reading, texting and/or calling people on his phone, watching a movie on either his laptop or Oikawa’s while crammed either on or before the couch, sleep

Practice was very strange for Ushijima at first. He was used to the strict training regime they had at Shiratorizawa, mostly focusing on their individual skill. But here, he didn’t just practice spiking, but he practiced receives for an equal, if not longer, amount of time. He worked on his serves, listened to his seniors advice, was told to experiment with different playing styles. 

It was very helpful and he was also able to examine his team. 

The seniors were very obviously skilled. The pinch servers didn’t seem to have the jealously that he’d see people of the same position have in high school. No, these teammates took pride in their position, clearly understanding their duty and the trust put into them during crucial moments of the game. Their serves were certainly fantastic and Ushijima had to blink at a jump serve that seemed to curve away from the receiver at the very last moment. 

The managers also supervised and practiced with the team. There were three managers total, Akaashi being the youngest of them, and it was clear how both the older managers (one girl, one boy) as well as his teammates fawned over Akaashi due to him being the youngest as well as the undivided attention Bokuto yearned from him, always calling for his praise, approval, and tosses. 

A nice surprise had come to him on Tuesday. Oikawa had asked Ushijima if he wanted to spike his tosses. And they did just that, for almost an hour, with Daichi coming over to try receiving the difficult spikes Ushijima sent to anywhere on the court. And he would try his best while either Jin or assistant coach Williams would stand on the side, encouraging Daichi and advising him on different things to try out. 

Daichi had gotten a bit thinner, Ushijima thinks. It worried him at first but then he realized it was because his training was focused on him getting faster and improving his reflexes rather than muscle training. His rate of improvement was amazing, although it was confusing when he would clearly be able to set-up to receive a ball properly only to delay his actions and use his foot. It would almost always go out. Sometimes it wouldn’t. Ushijima remembers Karasuno’s libero doing the same move successfully. It made him smile. Also watching Daichi practicing diving and following with a summersault to get back on his feet was especially entertaining. 

Bokuto, without fail, would spike Akaashi’s tosses at least a half-hour a day before one of the other setters would take over, getting used to Bokuto’s playing style. Akaashi had individually gone around and warned the players about Bokuto’s dejected moods and they had taken it in stride. Being one of the few first-years, Bokuto was often praised and cooed over. It reminded Ushijima of his first year of Junior High, and the third-year girls from the girls’ team would come over and help the with practice, gushing over the first years, Ushijima included.

Ushijima never wants to be on the opposite side as Kuroo during the six on six matches they’d have. He had found Karasuno’s first-year blond middle blocker, the one Satori had frist thought of as normal, to be impressive over the course of the match. Kuroo was an entirely different force. Even with being just a little shorter than the blond, his read blocking was more impressive, his movements faster, plays calculating, and everything about his movements deceiving. 

The whole week had been pleasant. Spare funds used to bring in lunch for the team. Ushijima would take the time to check his texts, be it during lunch or during the breaks. 

It was during lunch, sitting in the hallway against the wall between Bokuto and Daichi because it is improper to consume anything except for water and perhaps an energy drink on the courts. Bokuto is in the middle of describing something- Ushijima doesn’t know what but it seems interesting- when Ushijima’s phone starts vibrating. He sets down the paper plate, still chewing on a piece of glazed chicken. His eyes widen happily when he sees what’s on the lock screen.

A video call request. From Satori. 

“Oh, is that the friend your always talking about?” Bokuto quickly switches, leaning over to look at the phone. “The one in Europe?” Ushijima nods. “Then pick it up, bro! I wanna meet the guy!”

From the other side of Ushijima, Daichi’s head pops up from where it was bowed over his third serving, a noodle dangling from his mouth. He lets out a single “huh?”. 

“His friend’s calling- the Satori dude who’s making chocolates.” Bokuto says, eagerly pointing at the phone. Daichi nods and quickly chews and swallows, the noodly slapping his nose before sliding at high speeds into his mouth. Ushijima presses the green button to accept the call. This is his first time participating in a video call. This is going to be fun. 

“WAKATOSHI!” Satori calls out, so clearly that it sounds like he was sitting in the hall with them. From Bokuto’s side, Kuroo and Oikawa turn their head at the sudden cry of Ushijima’s name. Ushijima can’t help but smile. “Oh, who are these two-” he halts. And then he blinks. And he bends his head in that strange way that Ushijima has long gotten used to. “Oho, I know you two” Satori laughs. “Wakatoshi, why didn’t you ever mention that these two are your roommates?”

Ushijima frowns. “We aren’t in the dorms at the moment. How are you-”

“That answers it” Satori smiles. “It was a hunch.” Of course it was. “Fukurodani and Karasuno- you’ve got a good set right there. What about the other two?” Ushijima passes the phone to Bokuto, who rapidly waves, before turning the camera onto Oikawa and Kuroo, the two having continued their conversation after they realized what the small commotion was about. Bokuto passes the phone back to Ushijima. 

“So finally got the Great King to toss to you?” Satori says. 

“Yes. They were as good as I expected them to be.” After saying that, he looks closely at Satori. Heavy clothing, light blush on his face, a moving background. “Where are you? Three days ago you were in the Netherlands.” Satori winks. 

“You’re going to love this, Toshi. I’m going to put you on the side for now while I put on my shoes. Crow Captain, Owl Guy: why don’tcha introduce yourselves? You’ve been with Waka for almost two weeks now, right?”

“I’m Sawamura Daichi” Daichi introduces himself. “I played wing spiker but now I’m in training to be a libero. I’m majoring in electrical engineering but I don’t think I’m going to do anything with it.”

“So continuing volleyball?” Satori asks from somewhere. “Just like Wakatoshi, then. Well, when you get famous, make sure you remember the people who helped bring you there. I already promised Wakatoshi-kun that we’d be best friends forever, no matter what happens.” Ushijima smiles. 

Satori always knows the right things to say to either make the mood better or wreck it. Telling anyone of the promise they made only weeks ago makes him feel warm and content. And seeing that same feeling except as a smile on Daichi’s face makes him feel better. 

“Yeah” Daichi says. “My closest friends, they’re all together at the same university in Miyagi.”

Satori lets out a sympathizing “ah” before his face pops back into view. “That’s rough. Then you should take care of Wakatoshi for me and he’ll take care of you in return. Waka, make sure you give, Sawamura, was it, my number. Now pass it to Owl Guy- I need to put my other boot on.” Ushijima’s face turns incredulous as he passes the phone over to Bokuto. 

“You only put on a single shoe?”

“Boot” Satori’s voice comes. “These guys are tricker and I have to make sure everything’s on right.”

“Bokuto Koutarou!” Bokuto grins. “I love owls, yeah, also a wing spiker, studying a lot of stuff, and you can trust me to keep an eye on Toshi! We have chemistry, baking and pastry arts, and extraterrestrial life together.”

“Say what? The last one.”

“Extraterrestrial life! It’s an elective.”

“Sunday’s eight to ten PM” Daichi groans. 

“Oikawa managed to persuade all of us to take the class with him.” Ushijima sighs. Even with the research he did, he has no idea what’s going to take place in that class. The university has offered it in the past but it never had enough students sign up for the professor to be able to teach it. 

“That is very very nice” Satori sing songs. “I like you too, Bokuto. Anyway, boots are on. Pass the phone to Wakatoshi, I have something to show you three.” Then he pulls ski goggles over his eyes and lowers a fur-lined hood over his head. He turns the camera around and Ushijima comes face to face with his boots. _They really do look complicated_ before the camera raises again. 

Satori’s hand comes into view, unzipping part of the tent door in front of him. Everything is a blur as Satori moves around to zip the flaps back up. 

“Welcome to the northernmost part of Sweden, conveniently also on a mountain. He raises the phone. 

It’s through a phone lens but it’s still beautiful. 

“Don’t worry- my teacher is actually kinda famous. He has a youtube channel with us travelling. Shirabu, of course, found the channel first and I think he put it somewhere in the groupchat. So he has a nice profession video camera which he uses to record it so beautifully. Here- he’s awake too.” 

Ushijima keeps his eyes on the phone. The landscape was beautiful. A sea of white snow and further on, the peaks of other mountains on the range, curving around view, and the sky. Stars littered across it, sections of it looking like they could be galaxies or something. And weaved through them are beautiful large whisps of green and purple, light itself bending through the sky. 

“Wow” Daichi whispers. Both he and Bokuto have come closer. 

“Yo, Kuroo, bro, you’ve got to see this.” Kuroo pops his head over, uncovered eye widening. Oikawa joins in from Daichi’s side. The stars reflect in all of their eyes. Ushijima subtly wonders if he should walk into some of Oikawa’s astronomy lectures.

“Northern lights” Oikawa awes. 

“You got it!” Satori exclaims. “Here, Wakatoshi, let me introduce you to my teacher.”

“I practically know him already from all the stories you tell me” a warm, older voice says with an accent. The camera reverses and they see Satori standing next to a slightly shorter man who has his goggles pulled down. Warm almond shaped brown eyes, dirty blond hair, crows feet at the corners of his eyes and a small goatee on his chin.

“This is Louis!” Satori exclaims, although he says it as Ru-EE. “He’s an awesome guy. The other two, they’re Wakatoshi’s roommates. Sawamura Daichi and Bokuto Koutarou. This guy” he points at Daichi “He’s the captain of the team I told you about, with the annoying blond.” Louis lets out a hum. 

“All of you play volleyball?” He asks. “ _Ma_ _soeur_ , she plays. She just travelled with some friends to _Japon_. It is beautiful, I hear.”

“It is” Satori sighs. 

“If I may ask” Daichi says “Why are you camping out in northern Sweden?”

“Chocolate!” Satori exclaims without any further explanation. 

“Chocolate shouldn’t simply be something tasty” Louis starts to preach “It should reflect something, hold a memory. Such as how salty chocolate may remind you of the sea or a more fruity flavor of childhood. Our goal is to make chocolate that makes you think one thing, hinted by the name of the chocolate. To make a chocolate that can have the splendor of something as beautiful as this north, one must experience it first.”

Bokuto’s lower lip warmbles. “That was beautiful.” He tears. Then he gets up to run to where the managers have gathered to eat. “AKAAAAASHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII I DISCOVERED THE SECRET OF CHOCOLATE AND IT”S BEAUTIFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUL!” Chuckles rise from the different groups that have formed on the floor of the hallway. 

“Bokuto-san” they hear Akaashi sigh. “Sit down, calm down, and then tell me what this secret is.”

“Wait. . but it’s a secret.”

“Yes, Bokuto-san, you said that, but I will keep this secret safe.”

“You’re the best, Akaashi!”

“Surprising enough, he is a genius and technically the smartest person here.” Daichi sighs. He flinches when he realizes he said that out loud because Louis and Satori are laughing. 

“Okay, that’s awesome” Satori laughs. “Gotta go now, Wakatoshi and friends. I don’t want my phone to run dry now. I have photos to take, texts to send!” Louis pats Satori’s head. “Anyway, I’ll call and send pictures when I can get this thing charged. Enjoy practice!”

“Bye!” Daichi, Ushijima, and Kuroo who scooted over once Bokuto left to steal his food say. Two minutes after that the coaches call for them to continue practice. 

  
  


Satori, as promised, had called later and they talked more. And now, it was Monday. 

Ushijima was not ready for this. 

First of all, even though they didn’t have practice that morning in honor of the first week of classes, he was exhausted after having woken up at one in the morning, heart racing, body covered with sweat even with the AC on the Freeze setting. It took a while for his mind and body to calm down but by then, he was already wide awake. He spend the next few hours looking up topics of interest, watching volleyball clips with his headphones on, and reorganized his backpack and made sure the right textbooks were in there and that his name was on all of his belongings. 

He made breakfast early and ended up making too much so he used the food he made less of to make bentos for each of them. The boxes were nice: double deckered with a little thing on top of the first to store utensils. The bottom layer he packed rice in the larger compartment and meat into the smaller. On the top layer, he packs vegetables with little onigiri he managed to make, putting a small piece of milk bread in all of their boxes. It reminds Ushijima of those TV shows that he would sometimes see people watch, with the mother packing bento boxes for her children, all of them colored differently. And in front of him are five different colored bentos: Purple, Black, Turquoise, Gold-ish yellow, Red. In the bottom corner is their owner’s name, written in sharpie and covered with a piece of translucent tape for protection. Bokuto put a lot of effort into choosing and labeling the bentos. 

He wraps the bento in same colored cloth with little designs at the edges. His legs are still a little shaky from his wake-up so he decides to skip on a walk today. And then he frowns at the wrapped bentos because it’s six-thirty and no one’s awake yet. He’s getting too much done too quickly. 

“Ushijima? I thought you’d be on your walk by now.” Bokuto loudly whispers. Ushijima instinctively grabs the cup of chocolate milk he always pours out for the teen. Bokuto takes it and hops onto the countertop, lightly swinging his legs as he drinks, hair loose and falling softly around his head. Ushijima feels his gaze as he pours himself a cup of coffee, making sure to put in a lot cream and sugar. 

“I decided to skip today” he says. Bokuto spots the boxes and lets out a gasp. 

“Bento! Thank you Ushijima.”

“Are you hungry? We can eat breakfast before the others today.” The other eagerly nods. They serve themselves from the stovetop, Bokuto leading them to the couch rather than the table. Ushijima sits down first and Bokuto follows, bowl resting in his lap. 

“What really happened? You look tired. You’re actually drinking coffee. And I heard you shuffling around. Nightmare?” Ushijima looks at Bokuto, blinking at him, surprised. 

“I get nightmares too” Bokuto waves his hand “Hospitals mainly, for some weird reason. I’ve got nothing personal against hospitals- I’ll go into one if I need to- but they keep on coming for some reason. Do you get them often?” Ushijima shakes his head. He doesn’t know why but Bokuto looks relieved, patting Ushijima on the shoulder. “Alright, good. Nightmares are rough. Do you want to go on a walk?” 

Ushijima nods. 

“Great! Lets finish eating and let me change. Then we can go. I think I got a good route that I found from one of Kuroo’s map pamphlets.”

Ten minutes later Ushijima is walking down the streets of Tokyo. It’s already started coming to life, more and more people coming on the street. Walking with Bokuto is relaxing. He talks a lot, yes, and his energy reminds him of Satori and Goshiki. He jumps from topic to topic and it’s interesting. Bokuto has a sort of intelligence that he doesn’t really credit himself with- he’s modest about it. He also doesn’t seem to be smart, much less a genius, at first but he really can be observant and sharp. After having seen one Bokuto’s moods first hand during his second year and then hearing about them from Akaashi, he wonders if maybe Bokuto had been able to overcome that obstacle, he would of been in the top three. More likely, if he would of been number one. 

“Bokuto” Ushijima says “It is customary to call others by their family name by many of my friends call me by my first name because I ask them to. I don’t choose friends easily, that is why the number is low. But I trust you and see you as a friend. If you are comfortable with it, I would like for you to address me as Wakatoshi.” He isn’t given time to look at Bokuto for his reaction. He feels his reaction instead, the slightly shorter spiker wrapping his arms around Ushijima in a tight hug. 

“Then call me Koutarou!” Bokuto exclaims. 

* * *

  
  


“I will now bid all of you adieu” Kuroo says with a bow. Bokuto lets out a cry, tackling the middle blocker in a hug. 

“Don’t die!” Bokuto says. “Make sure you don’t get lost too, bro. And don’t forget where we’re meeting for lunch!”

“Bro” Kuroo says, patting the top of Bokuto’s spiked-up hair. “I’ll be fine. You lucky guys with your nine o’clock classes.” He adjusts his bag. “I’ll see you guys at lunch, then.”

Half an hour later, the rest of them also set off for their first classes of the term. While Kuroo goes to biochemistry, Bokuto excitedly hops to quantum physics, Oikawa and Daichi sticking together to go to calculus, and Ushijima for his basic cooking course. 

Each of them hold a carefully wrapped bento. 

* * *

The class sizes aren’t large, twenty to thirty people. Daichi and Oikawa decide to sit together, of course, and on the walk to the classroom modeled like a small lecture theatre with slightly raised seating which benefits both the professor and the student, Oikawa gets flocked by girls. It takes Daichi’s slightly scary glares to ward them off and Oikawa teases that he’s becoming like Iwa-chan. 

Once in the classroom, they see there are people both in their year or a year above. They take the right corner of the front row, away from the door and the group of girls dressed in their best, giggling, and crowding all of the seat on the left side of the room. Their professor is quite popular with the girls, apparently. 

“I can’t wait to see him” Oikawa stage whispers. “He could be a weird silver fox with a leather jacket and handlebar moustache.” Daichi snickers, the two of them getting out their materials for the two hour long class. 

“Or he can be serious and just looks good” Daichi points out. From what they hear from around him, the last professor had to retire early due to a back injury. The new one was hired and just began last term as a part-time professor. He also plays on a V-League Division 2 team and only just recently moved to Tokyo from Miyagi after getting this job. That cancels out any ideas Oikawa would have about the professor being a silver fox. The girl’s call him adorable. 

The door to the classroom opens and a tall figure with dirty blond hair and familiar golden-brown eyes hurries in, dressed semi-formal with slacks, a collared shirt, and a blazer with the middle button done. Actually, all of him is familiar to Daichi. All the students stand to bow and greet the teacher. 

“Sorry I’m late!” He says. “You all can sit now.” He puts a hand on his hip and examines the class with a smile on his lips. “I recognize a lot of you. Niya-kun, I see you’ve died your hair. Takehiro-kun you’re finally wearing that shirt. It’s looking good.” A boy in a sequined shirt raises his hands in a thumbs up and most of the students laugh. An inside joke from last term, most likely. And then the professors eyes turn to Oikawa and Daichi and his eyes widen. 

“Ooooh” the professor says. “Daichi, I didn’t know you were coming here.” Daichi slides down in his seat. “Hey, remember my adorable baby brother?”

“Yes, do you have any more stories about him?” A student quips. Daichi feels bad for Tsukishima. 

“Not exactly” the professor grins. “My brother’s team captain is in our class so _he’ll_ have lots of stories to tell us. I’ll catch up with you later, Daichi. You need to tell me all about what Kei’s been up to!” Daichi nods, cheeks ablaze. He can’t bring himself to speak because first he gets a bunch of captains as roommates. And then two, this guy turns out to be his professor. 

“Let’s get started. Who’s ready to go over the COURSE SYLLABUS!” Their professor procures a small packet of papers out of nowhere, waving it in the air.

“WE ARE PROFESSOR AKITERU!” All of the class except for Daichi and Oikawa roar back with equal fervor. 

“LET’S DO CALCULUS!”

“YEAHHHHHHH!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Akiteru. He's such a soft, soft bean. He's awesome. And it just seems so _like him_ that all of his students would love him, he'd love his students, and he'd be such a casual guy. And yes, I'm making him play on a Division 2 team because our boy deserves to love volleyball again (AKA Kei telling him to just join a team already instead of being a sad office worker. And then he becomes a professor and a volleyball player again and Kei be like 'hecc').
> 
> If any of you are JJBA fans, then there's this super good fic which I've followed since chapter one called "Reverse Psychology". It's really good and even though the fic takes place in New York, that fic is what informed me to how college classes to work since Teikoku is modeled to be a university that follows international university standards and stuff.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First classes of college  
> sleepyjima  
> Dadchi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this written yesterday- I wrote it after finishing Chapter 12. And I was going to post it tomorrow but I like getting comments and the only comments I got were from this fic, so. . . .yeah

_ In calculus _ . . .

The class was wild. It was, at least, exciting. Somehow Akiteru managed to make going over a syllabus and both Daichi and Oikawa were confused how that was even possible. They played some whiteboard review game which confused Daichi even more because the last time he played review games were in elementary school but here were about twenty-five students chanting on their classmates from ages eighteen to twenty as they jumped over chairs right when Akiteru would say their names and they would body slam into the whiteboard, jamming markers and quickly solving equations and tossing the marker into the ceiling. It made them get an adrenaline rush usually unique to volleyball. But no. They’re in a calculus class. With the older brother of Daichi’s most cunning underclassman. It only hit Daichi as class ended and everyone- him included- groaned that he realized that he just learned how to do some complicated math problem as he throws his marker into the air, roaring with Oikawa with a completed and correct problem on the smooth white behind him. 

_ In quantum physics. . . _

When the professor finally gets to Bokuto, to have him introduce himself, he’s just about ready to bounce out of his seat. 

“Bokuto Koutarou!” He introduces. “I’m super  _ super  _ excited to be here. I come here from Fukurodani Academy, for fun I play volleyball well not really because I’m on the team here, and I’m a first year. I look forward to the rest of the year!” Everyone turns to him and Bokuto isn’t dismissed to sit yet. Most of them introduced themselves as either third or fourth years, only two of them being second years. He was the only first year. 

“Are you sure you’re in the right class?” Professor Ivanov asks, looking down at him. She’s tall. Two hundred centimeters, if Bokuto had to guess. She’s pretty too, with silver hair and grey eyes almost the same shade, her features different due to being Russian, but he still thinks Akaashi is prettier. 

“Yeah” he says. “Quantum physics with Professor Ivanov. I have you right now and Wednesday at the same time.” She narrows her eyes. 

“And you’ve taken Calculus already?”

“Yeah.”

“Differential equations?”

“Last year. Super cool.”

The students around him are whispering and Bokuto kind of feels like sinking into his seat. It’s not a large class, only about twenty people, and now he kind of has a feeling why. The quantum physics course requires that you took a bunch of previous classes prior and when Bokuto had been selecting his classes, he saw that he took all of those already. It made this class seem more interesting so he took it.

Her gaze is cold for a moment but then it softens and she smiles. 

“Fukurodani. . Fukurou. . .you do look like an owl, Bokuto-kun. It has been very long since I’ve had a first year in any of my classes. I do hope you enjoy this class. Students, make sure you treat Bokuto-kun with respect. You may now sit.” Bokuto nods and the class responds to her request with a collective “ _ hai sensei” _ .

_ In Basic Cooking _ . . .

“If you don’t know the eleven ways to cook an egg already, then you can GET OUT OF HERE!” The professor snaps, the first thing he says once he sees that the class has everyone on his roster, and a girl bursts into tears, running out of the room. Ushijima blinks, looking down at the eggs in front of him. “NOW EACH OF YOU HAVE ELEVEN EGGS. COOK EACH OF THEM IN A DIFFERENT WAY AND IF YOU CAN’T YOU CAN GET OUTTA HERE!”

Ushijima looks down at the eleven brown eggs in front of him. And then he looks at everyone else, who he conveniently towers over. He heats up the pan and waits for the butter to melt before cracking an egg. Then he gets the pot ready, already filled with water, and turns the dial to hyper boil.  _ Hard boiled, soft boiled, fried, scrambled, omelette, sunny side up _ . . .

After an hour, Ushijima has cooked all eleven eggs in eleven different ways. He has cleaned and sanitized his cooking area and even went to the back and cleaned his pan. He doesn’t understand why people kept on turning back at him to give him cruel looks. The professor praises him, saying how there’s someone here who knows what they’re doing. The girl next to him shyly asks for help and the professor points this out, changing what Ushijima had at first thought about him. He wanted people to work together. You can’t learn to cook on your own- that’s why apprenticeships are a thing. You have to learn how to put a little trust in someone and also learn how to select the trustworthy from the deceitful. 

_ In Biochemistry _ . . .

Kuroo swiftly copies the chemical structures projected on the screen, the clock saying he only has ten more minutes to make his cramped fingers move faster to get everything down and fill another page of his notebook. 

The person next to him accidentally smears the ink of the diagram he just drew and lets out a cry of pain, startling the people around him except Kuroo. Kuroo is focused. His hand is curved to not smear, forearm slightly elevated, sweat starting to soak his red t-shirt. 

_ Maybe I should of stayed in law, or maybe gone into business. . . _

But then he thinks about how he understands these chemical structures and that law would be too much of a pain. And then wrinkles his nose at the thought of being a slinky capitalist. He writes and draws with more fervor. 

* * *

  
  


They gather for lunch on a hill in a small park that the science buildings surround. Kuroo is the first one there and out of all of them, he looks the most tired. He has a grimace on his face, gently massaging his right hand. His bento sits on the grass, not yet unwrapped. He looks up when he sees Ushijima coming from one direction and Bokuto nearly sprinting towards the hill, bright colored bento swinging from his hand. 

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto calls out, reaching the top of the hill before Ushijima could, the latter breaking into an effortless jog. 

“Hey hey hey” Kuroo calls back. “I texted Akaashi for you. He won’t be with us for lunch.” Bokuto slumps a little. “Don’t worry, Bo. Akaashi cares for you- he has to get settled too.” Bokuto nods. 

“Yeah, and Akaashi can join us any day of the week! And he’ll also be at practice.” Bokuto folds his legs and sits down right next to Kuroo, setting his bento down in front of him. All of their classes end around the same time, depending on when the professor decides to release them. The maths department is a little farther than the culinary area, so Oikawa and Daichi will be the last to arrive. Bokuto tosses his bag text to Kuroos, which rests against the trunk of the tree that tops the hill. 

It’s a nice day, cooling breeze. 

“How was quantum physics?” Kuroo asks. 

“It was awesome!” Bokuto exclaims. “The teacher couldn’t believe that I was in her class, you know? But then she was impressed with me ‘cuz I was the only first year and it ended up being interesting but the syllabus is super crowded and there’s a lot of stuff to learn but I think I got this!”

Kuroo pats him on the back and Bokuto preens at the attention. Ushijima arrives and sits down next to Bokuto. 

“How was biochemistry?” Bokuto asks in return. Kuroo groans and makes a point of massaging his hand. 

“So much writing. And the professor was slow- took half of class to go over the syllabus and then made us copy down a bunch of chemical structures to memorize already. I think I got ten pages front and back and my hand hurts.”

“Would you like for me to massage your hand?” Ushijima offers. “It will make your finger joints feel better.” Kuroo nods. 

“Yes please.” Kuroo gets up to sit next to Ushijima, giving him his right hand. He groans when Ushijima takes his hand in both of his, pressing against different parts of his hand. “That feels good.” Kuroo mutters, closing his eyes and relaxing. 

“So how was basic cooking?” Bokuto asks, golden eyes bright with interest. 

“I had to cook eleven eggs in eleven different ways. I was one of the few people who knew how to do so. The professor is harsh.” Bokuto winces. 

“Same here. I don’t think anyone made a noise when she taught.”

“Imagine Oikawa and Sawamura” Kuroo says, Ushijima moving from massaging his fingers to his palm, wrist, and lower arm. “Calculus so early in the morning. They must be so bo-”

“CALCULUS!” They hear Oikawa shout, loud enough to be heard across campus. 

“CALCULUS!” A group of people echo farther in the distance. Kuroo looks in the direction Oikawa’s voice had come from. He and Daichi are walking, side by side, with equal grins on their face, cheeks read, a sheen of sweat visible on their faces. They take their time walking up the hill, echoes of “calculus” ringing throughout different parts of the classroom. 

“The hell was that?” Kuroo asks, lazily opening his eyes and raising an eyebrow. 

“The battle cry of all of the calculus classes of one heavenly professor by the name of Tsukishima Akiteru.” Oikawa and Daichi drop their bags by the tree with everyone elses and sit down side by side, Daichi next to Bokuto and Oikawa next to Kuroo, forming two loose circles: one out of their sitting bodies and another by their bentos. 

“Tsukishima?” Kuroo asks. 

“Yeah, Akiteru is Tsukishima’s older brother” Daichi grins. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize the professor’s name on the schedule. You have him later today, right?” 

“He has professor Tsukishima’s class with me later today, yes.” Ushijima answers. “How is he like? You two seem excited.”

“Yes, he is so  _ good _ ” Oikawa exclaims. “Class was so fun and he’s such a cool guy and everyone loves him! I remember tall-blond-and-glasses but Akiteru-sensei is  _ awesome _ . We played games and I learned something new without even knowing it!” 

“That was so creepy” Daichi says. “I haven’t been so hyped out about learning ever. I didn’t think learning could even work like that.” Bokuto pouts. 

“Man, that sounds so fun. I wish I took calculus now…” 

Daichi pats his back. “It’s alright. I can sneak you in tomorrow?” 

The boy perks up at this. “Really?”

“Yeah. 1:30 to 3:30. He allows visitors, but only a maximum of three because he doesn’t want to memorize too many names.”

Bokuto pumps a fist into the air. “Yes! I don’t have any classes at that time!”

“Oikawa” Ushijima says, starting to unwrap his own bento now that he’s done massaging Kuroo’s hand. “Look in your bento.” Daichi’s head snaps down and his eyes widen. 

“Food” Daichi says. “I can’t believe calculus made me forget about food.” Kuroo snickers and Daichi shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, Oikawa has already undone the cloth and is already opening the top box, eyes widening. He looks up at Ushijima, tear starting to gather. 

“M-m-milk bread?” Oikawa scoops up the piece, holding it like a parent would hold a newborn, pressing a gentle, feathery kiss onto the top of the pastry. “Ushiwaka, you are a good person now.”

“What do you mean?” Daichi smirks, holding his chopsticks and taking one of the mini onigiri. “Ushijima’s always been a nice person. Did you forget about the video Akaashi took already?”

“I love that video” Bokuto grins. “Isn’t Akaashi awesome at taking videos?”

“Yes he is” Kuroo says sarcastically. “The best.”

“I know, right!” No one has the energy to pop Bokuto’s little bubble of praise for Fukurodani’s former setter. “I remember the videos you take Kuroo- I’m sorry bro, but they suck.”

“Agreed” Daichi says before Kuroo could get a single word out. “You probably suck at a lot of things.” Kuroo pouts and Oikawa lets out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. Daichi smirks, holding Kuroo’s gaze as a he pops a piece of meat into his mouth. 

“Why do you have to be so mean?” Kuroo whines. 

“To make you stronger, just like how all those flying falls made me stronger.” 

“OKAY” Kuroo says. “Let’s all just enjoy Ushijima’s amazing cooking.” Enjoy they do, while talking about anything that comes to mind, Ushijima participating in the conversation more than usual. Daichi finishes his food and takes his phone out, unlocking it and looking at the most recent of texts. The school year had just started so Daichi wonders how the team is doing now that he, Suga, Asahi, and Kiyoko aren’t students there. But he’s willing to bet that the three would often visit after school. He’s confirmed when he sees texts from Suga that they’ll be coming after school to help sort out the new recruits. 

“Is it the groupchat?”

“Yup” Daichi says. And then he whistles. “Well, would you look at that. Hinata and Kageyama finally got together.” He sends a  **Congratulations!** And then he tosses the phone to Kuroo. “Text a list of things they should not do before they turn eighteen- no, twenty. They have to be twenty.” Oikawa smirks. 

“Such a dad.” Kuroo smirks but he texts anyway. Bokuto leans over to read the chat while Kuroo talks, reading out loud what everyone is saying, Oikawa and Ushijima occasionally interjected to ask who is who. 

**Cr** **ow Family**

**[11:58]**

**Hinata:** **yeah im so happy!**

**Yachi:** **Yay!**

**Daichi:** **Congratulations!**

**Kageyama:** **its nothn big**

**Yamaguchi:** **But it’s important!**

**Yamaguchi:** **You have a boyfriend now!**

**Yamaguchi:** **That’s important, right Tsukki?**

**Tsukishima:** **Yes.**

**Suga:** **I give you my blessing**

**Suga:** **But if you hurt each other**

**Suga:** **＾∀＾**

**Asahi:** **Koushi, stop being so scary. . .**

**Kiyoko:** **I am happy you two are together now**

**Ennoshita:** **Maybe you’ll be easier to deal with**

**Noya:** **I AGREE WITH KIYOKO**

**Tanaka:** **me too!!!!!!!n11!**

**Hinata:** **n11?**

**Tanaka:** **thumb slip**

**Noya:** **:D**

**Daichi:** **Sawamura has given me the utmost honor of telling you two what not to do before you are eighteen.**

**Daichi:** **Nevermind, before you’re twenty.**

**Hinata:** **is that u bokuto san?**

**Tsukishima:** **Bokuto wouldn’t type in full sentences.**

**Tsukishima:** **Much less waste time finding the hiragana rather than use the numerical form**

Bokuto pouts at the screen. 

“I know how to type in full sentences- I type in full sentences! Bro, help me out here!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t realize you read out loud an insult” Oikawa laughs. 

“Just continue” Daichi smiles, sinisterly taking a water bottle out and starting to drink from it. How does he manage to make any action look threatening?

**Daichi:** **I’m roommate number two**

**Daichi:** **1) no kissing anywhere other than the hand. Anywhere on the face except for the lips is only allows after six months of a successful relationship.**

**Daichi:** **2) no hitting each other. That is domestic abuse.**

**Noya:** **oho thats gonna be tough**

**Kageyama:** **?**

**Hinata:** **we dont hit eachother**

Kuroo blinks at the screen. 

“Sawamura, your first years have a problem.”

“I know. There’s a reason fait sent me far away from Miyagi.”

**Daichi:** **3) Don’t do the deed until marriage**

**Daichi:** **Nevermind, real Sawamura says to never say any details regarding that.**

**Hinata:** **whats the deed?**

**Suga:** **Ignore roommate number 2**

**Daichi:** **D’:**

**Tanaka:** **i luv this**

**Noya:** **same**

**Kiyoko:** **Roommate No. 2, I think the list is complete**

**Kiyoko:** **Hinata, Kageyama: just treat each other like you normally would but try being a little nicer to each other**

**Kageyama:** **want 2 go 2 club early 2 receive my tosses?**

**Hinata:** **I <3 you!**

“Also, can you send the first picture I have in my photos?” Daichi asks, trusting Kuroo fully. He doesn’t have anything bad on his phone- a few embarrassing photos, yes, to use as blackmail, but Kuroo has seen him at his lowest. They don’t talk about it but Daichi already feels close to all four of them. More than he should be considering all the extra late-night practice Bokuto and Kuroo would drag him to during training camp. “I’ll tell you what to type.”

**Suga:** **Daichi, how’s Tokyo?**

**Daichi:** **Amazing. I just had calculus with one of my roommates. I have an interesting photo, actually.**

**Hinata:** **photos!**

**Hinata:** **did you get a haircut Daichi san?**

**Kageyama:** **boke where did u gt that frm?**

**Hinata:** **its been a while!**

**Tanaka:** **heh**

**Noya:** **hehe**

**Tanaka:** **hehehe**

**Ennoshita:** **please don’t spam the chat**

**Narita:** **Im gonna stay out this time**

**Kinnoshita:** **read and watch the fun only**

**Asahi:** **Daichi, you’re also scaring me**

**Noya:** **stop being scared asahi!**

**Noya:** **Also what room are you in?**

**Asahi:** **?**

**Suga:** **oh, it happened sooner than expected ( ;**

**Noya:** **Im at your college. Brought food too.**

**Tanaka:** **knew ud make it bro!**

“I knew he’d do it” Daichi says. 

“Tell me the details” Oikawa asks, rubbing his hands together. “Your libero and former ace?” Daichi grins and nods. 

“They’re so oblivious” Daichi says. “But Suga is going to do something if nothing happens after a month. You don’t have to be worried. Now, send the picture, Kuroo.

**Daichi:** **[04_15_2014.jpg]**

**Daichi:** **Me and my calculus professor. He has a fanclub too. My roommates are going to sign up.**

**Yamaguchi:** **Tsukki dropped his phone. But he turned red before doing that. I think he’s in shock.**

**Yachi:** **Akiteru-san!**

**Tanaka:** **man, i love that dude! Hows he doing?**

**Daichi:** **Good. You’d love his class. We played games the whole time.**

**Hinata:** **games?**

**Daichi:** **He’s also on a division 2 team.**

**Hinata:** **can i go to college?**

**Suga:** **Hinata. . .**

**Asahi:** **Hinata. . .**

**Kiyoko:** **Hinata. . .**

**Noya:** **Asahi, eat ur food instead of typing! Ur too skinny! I packed ur fav too!**

**Daichi:** **Bokuto says hi to all of you.**

Then Kuroo turns the phone off and and tosses it back to Daichi, who catches it and puts it back in his pocket. 

“Wakatoshi, you should take a nap” Bokuto says. “You look exhausted.”

“I’ll be fine Koutarou” Ushijima says but the words go to waste when he says the last three words while yawning. None of them have ever heard Ushijima yawn before. It’s a strange thing to observe. No one points out the two calling the other by their first name. Oikawa frowns.

“Ushiwaka, I can’t toss to you when your not at your best.”

“And you ate all your food already” Daichi points out. “We have a little less than an hour. Your next class is in the culinary department, right?” Ushijima nods. “You’ll be good, then.”

“Here” Kuroo says, digging into his backpack and pulling out a red jacket jacket, turning it inside out and tossing it to Ushijima. “Use it as a pillow.” 

“Why do you have a jacket?”

Shrug. “I get cold easily. Slow circulation.” Ushijima stares at the jacket and then he starts packing up his bento, retying the cloth before putting it next to his backpack. He rolls up the jacket and puts it on the ground before lying down on his back, arms folded and legs bent to form a triangle with the ground. It’s easy to see that he falls asleep within a minute, feet slipping and body turning to lie on his side. 

“Now for our next problem” Oikawa loudly whispers. “Anyone know how to tie a bento?”

* * *

The rest of the day goes differently for each of them. Kuroo, Oikawa, and Bokuto head to their shared physics class. After physics, Bokuto doesn’t have any other classes so he heads back to their apartment-dorm to do his homework before getting ready for practice. Oikawa, after physics, goes to his english language class and then returns to their apartment to do any homework he may have for the short time before practice. Kuroo, after physics, gets the honor of participating in Akiteru’s calculus class with Ushijima, returning to the apartment with Sawamura at his side and an extra swing in his step and a smear of whiteboard marker on his forehead. When they finally go to practice, their captain snickers and asks Kuroo if he had Akiteru’s class last. Whiteboard games seem to be the star of that class and why so many people at Teikoku are interested in math: so that they can get into one of Akiteru’s different infamous calculus classes. 

The next day, Tuesday, all of their classes end at or before seven o’clock. Bokuto and Ushijima have different sized smiles on their faces and specks of flours on different areas of their exposed skin. 

Oikawa decides to try his hand at cooking but is stopped by Daichi, who had heard from Kageyama who had heard from Iwaizumi about his skill in decimating the kitchen. But, after mutch debate, he ends up being allowed to cook with Kuroo supervising before he has to leave for another calculus class and Bokuto takes over, an optional class which has a different teacher than Akiteru and focuses on it’s application in the chemical world. He comes back at nine, ten minutes after dinner was finished being made. Sawamura had left at eight, having an energy drink and filling up a water bottle before he left. 

He didn’t come back when Kuroo came back. 

They waited half an hour before starting dinner without Daichi, none of them remembering when his class ended. Ushijima takes a quick nap.

At ten o’clock he still isn’t back. Kuroo semi-reluctantly volunteers to do the dishes and packs the food into glass containers and leaves two bowls filled with food out for Daichi in the microwave for reheating. Bokuto reads ahead in their textbooks. Oikawa and Ushijima head to the practice courts to practice for a little bit. Kuroo gets bored and goes to the main part of campus to do some filing. 

At eleven o’clock, Oikawa and Ushijima return after only a short hour of practice. Bokuto had fallen asleep but he wakes up after rolling off the couch and onto the floor. The start of “Sawamura” exited his mouth but faded away when he saw it was only Ushijima and Oikawa. The two take a shower. Regardless of not having gotten a proper amount of sleep, Ushijima doesn’t fall asleep. They try texting Daichi to see when he’ll be back but it’s only after Bokuto tries calling out of worry do they find out that Daichi forgot his phone in his room. When Kuroo returns after an hour and a half of work, he mentions that he vaguely remembers Daichi’s schedule from when they went to select their classes a little over two weeks ago and that he might have a class that runs a little late. It doesn’t comfort any of them. 

Midnight comes and goes, Tuesday officially becomes Wednesday. Still only four people are in the apartment. One by one, they unintentionally fall asleep where they sit on the couches. Kuroo softly snoring with his head on Ushijima’s shoulder, Bokuto’s head on his other shoulder which gel till in his hair, Ushijima himself sleeping his head tilted back with his neck probably uncomfortably stretched. Oikawa takes the other couch, his leg stretched out after he rolled on the ground and it started hurting a bit. 

Ten minutes after one o’clock, a very tired Sawamura Daichi carefully enters the apartment he shares with four others. He frowns when he sees that the main light is still open. A soft smile traces across his face and a sad glint enters his eyes. He shivers at the cold of the apartment and the first thing he does is go to his room so that he could drop off his backpack. Then he checks his phone and bites his lower lip at the stream of concerned texts, two of them even from Suga telling him to check his phone- his roommates are worries. He texts back  **Good morning in advance. Sorry for causing worry. I had classes.** Then he puts his phone on charging, changes his clothes, and grabs a pillow, his blanket, and Oikawa’s. He adjusts the trio on the longer couch so that Ushijima doesn’t wake up with neck problems, tucking his blanket around them. Then he places the pillow under Oikawa’s head, putting the blanket on him, taking his glasses off and putting them on the coffee table. He finds his food in the microwave and eats some of it cold before putting it in the fridge, movements sluggish. He gets a futon from the deemed storage area of Ushijima’s room and a spare blanket from his own, spreading it on the bare piece of ground that a TV will be in the future. He turns the lights off, checking that everyone is asleep, before giving himself the pleasure of doing the same thing. The time is quarter to two. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The effect of Daichi’s questionable schedule choices  
> Bokuto unknowingly flexing his genius in a Tuesday-class flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you noticed, I removed the relationship tags (BokuAka and IwaOi). Why? Well, I don’t know when the relationships will actually develop. Two, I haven’t determined if I’ll make this a polycaptain fic or something. 
> 
> I don’t know _why_ but no matter how many times I looked over this chapter, I always felt like something was off with it. Like, it didn’t have the same feel as the other chapters. The whole chapter doesn’t feel off- I like quite a few parts of this. But my brain is mostly accusing the chemistry class scene. So if that scene was weird to read through, as in it seemed off or something, that’s on my and my inability to write.

Bokuto’s brain starts up, cell by cell, when he feels the thing under his head shift. It’s warm, and he’s tired, and he wants to get a little more sleep before practice. The mornings are always somehow colder than it is at night and it reminds him of winter. He snuggles closer, pulling up the blanket from where it’s slipping from his shoulder-

Eh?

Blanket?

Gold eyes open, head turning, focusing on the sleeping face of Ushijima and Kuroo on the other side, the Nekoma graduate’s mouth hanging open and a thin string of drool hanging from his mouth. His hair is droopy since he didn’t sleep in his usual manner. 

And there’s a blanket on all three of them. A blanket in a familiar shade of white with black embroidery spreading across one of the corners. Bokuto remembers asking the owner of the blanket where he was able to get a blanket with raven’s stitched across parts of it but he had said he didn’t buy it: his mom had given to him after his first high school volleyball tournament, spending weeks in secret decorating the blanket. 

Looking over at Oikawa, he sees that the setter has a pillow and blanket that weren’t there before, the glasses he fell asleep with no longer on his face. 

“Is it five?” Ushijima grumbles, with a small barely stifled yawn. 

“I think Daichi’s back” Bokuto loudly whispers. Olive eyes focus on him, a hand coming up to rub at sleep addled eyes. “Or did you get up in the middle of the night and get us his blanket?” Ushijima shakes his head. 

“Urgh- be quiet” Kuroo grumbles, long limbs hooked onto Ushijima. 

“Bro, good morning” Bokuto loudly whispers. 

“ ‘Mura back yet?”

“We think so.”

Kuroo’s eyes pop open, wide awake. He also notices the blanket on him. He turns his head and then his face softens. Bokuto follows his gaze. 

On the other side of the coffee table, in the space where they decided on their first day a TV would go, is a curled up lump and barely visible patch of what seems to be hair. 

Ushijima leans forward and grabs his phone from where it sits on the coffee table. 

“It’s four forty-five” Ushijima says. “We have less than an hour to get ready for practice.” After a week of having a day’s worth of practice only a few hours before noon, it’s strange getting up for their first morning practice, which starts at six in the morning and runs till eight-thirty. 

“Make me some extra coffee” Kuroo groans, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Late nights are horrible. When did Sawamura even come back?”

“I’ll wake him up” Bokuto volunteers. “You can deal with Oikawa.” And before his friend could protest, Bokuto gets up before even Ushijima does, nearly tripping over the blanket. Blowing the hair out of his eyes, he gets on his knees next to Sawamura. 

“Actually, I kind of don’t want to wake him up” Bokuto says, looking down his roommate’s sleeping form. He’s curled up in a thin blanket, which meant he got one of the spare blankets instead of using his or Kuroo’s. His limbs are tucked in, every inch of his body covered with his head enveloped by blanket and futon alike. There are the beginnings of shadows under his eyes, skin paler than normal. “He looks tired.”

“He had some of the leftovers” Ushijima calls from the kitchen. “I’ll prepare the coffee. He did not consume a sufficient amount of food.” Bokuto looks back down at Daichi, biting his lower lip. He doesn’t want to wake him up. But where was he last night?

“Hey, Daichi” Bokuto softly says, remembering how his sisters would wake him up when they were home. He always liked being woken up by them. He puts one hand on Daichi’s shoulder and cards the other through his surprisingly soft hair. “It’s time to wake up. This is why you don’t stay up late.”

“Bo-chan, you have to be less gentle” Oikawa says, stretching his arms out before scratching the back of his head and adjusting the blanket on his shoulders. “He’s not going to wake up like that.”

“He will!” Bokuto protests. “Come on, Daichi. We’re going to be late for practice!” The only thing the sleeping teen does is shift is head so that Bokuto’s hand is on his cheek before nuzzling it. Bokuto’s heart breaks. 

“I can’t do this!” He protests. “Seriously, he’s like-like. . .a baby owl!” He finally decides. “This isn’t fair. Oikawa,  _ you  _ try waking him up.” Oikawa sends him a wink. 

“This is how you wake someone up.” He says. He crouches and starts poking the back of Daichi’s neck. “Yoo hoo~ Dai-chan. It’s time to wake up!” All the teen does is shift, flop over onto his other side, and hug Oikawa’s arm. Oikawa’s mouth doesn’t close, hanging open, thoughts unable to be registered at the moment. 

“See what I mean?” Bokuto says. “He’s impossible to wake up! You can’t make that sleeping face go away!” Oikawa looks torn. His lips press into a flat line. 

“I mean” he says uncertainly “Dai-chan usually looks a little stressed. And he had a late night. He could of had anywhere from one to four hours of sleep. But then he’ll be an angry Dai-chan if we don’t wake him up.”

“Then you’re lucky I wake up easily.”

Both Bokuto and Oikawa let out a yelp, the former flinching back, Oikawa rooted to the spot by the limbs hugging his arm. Daichi’s eyes lazily open and he doesn’t even yawn, releasing Oikawa’s arm and sitting up, a grin on his face. Bokuto remembers the words Kuroo told him on the first day of training camp before after the summer InterHigh, an hour or so before Karasuno arrived. He remembers his best friend’s exact words:

_ Be wary of their captain. He may look innocent, honest, and trustworthy, but he’s actually of the crafty type.  _

“That wasn’t funny.” Oikawa pouts. 

“Not for me.” Daichi says, letting out a slow yawn. He rubs his jaw and closes his eyes. 

“Hey hey, when did you come home last night?” Bokuto asks. 

“Around, um” Daichi looks a bit guilty “A bit before two.”

“What were you doing on campus at one in the morning?” Oikawa loudly says, anger flashing across his face. Daichi quickly gets up, the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen. 

“I had class” Daichi says. “I have psychology from eleven to one on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And before that I had engineering physics from eight to eleven. I thought Kuroo knew about it?” Bokuto and Oikawa’s heads snap to Kuroo who raises his hands in defense. 

“I didn’t know he had it  _ that  _ late. And I only saw your schedule when you got it! I can’t remember for this long.”

“Sawamura” Ushijima says, handing the teen a cup of coffee as well as his container of reheated leftovers. “Finish all of it.”

“Gladly” Daichi sighs, heavily sitting in his chair while Bokuto heads to his room to change. 

“It’s only one term, right?” Kuroo asks, carefully setting himself in the chair next to Daichi. “You had all of us pretty worried and, no offense, but you almost look like a zombie.”

“I’ll get used to it” Daichi reassures. “I’ve had a lot of late nights before.” He takes a sip and freezes after setting his cup down on the table. The two of them are quiet, the only noise being Ushijima preparing a quick breakfast and their lunches in the kitchen, Oikawa shuffling around his hair products in the bathroom, and Bokuto fumbling around his room. 

“You guys didn’t have to stay up for me.” Daichi says. “It’s only two days a week. And I know it’s my fault for not telling you how late I would be coming home but I didn’t want you to worry about me being tired. I thought you’d all be asleep, and I was right, but I had to keep you, Ushijima, and Bokuto from pulling something.”

“You should finish your dinner” Kuroo says, noticing that Daichi hadn’t taken a bite out of his food yet. The other nods and takes his chopsticks, scooping some of the food and putting it in his mouth before chewing. There’s a moment of hesitation. “You know, you’re trying your best already. You don’t need to push yourself.”

“Thanks” Daichi says, not looking up, but he eats more quickly, food and coffee going down in record time. Kuroo savors his coffee, watching the color return to his skin. 

* * *

**_Flashback to Tuesday. . ._ **

Chemistry. 

It was understandable that out of the five of them, Kuroo was the most excited out of them, leading the way while wearing sunglasses identical to the pair that Bokuto sports, the two of them walking shoulder to shoulder. 

They arrive early. 

There’s only three other people in the room at the moment, two being girls who have already chosen seat next to each other, the third being their professor, hunched over her computer, assumingly adding the finishing touches to the introduction to their term-long chemistry course. 

They sit in the corner of the room farthest from the door. The room is more like a lab, bordered with countertops and cabinets and machines. There are three rows of three large tables with sinks and workspace, forming a nice grid, each table seating three people. Ushijima and Bokuto sit in the corner-most table while Daichi, Oikawa, and Kuroo sit at the table behind them. 

They get their notebooks, textbooks, and pens out while the rest of the class files in, students looking over who else is the class as them as well as seeing where they want to sit. As the clock creeps closer and closer to the start of class, one thing becomes more and more obvious:

There are no other boys in this class. 

Oikawa, now that he’s all set up, leaves his seat to talk to some of their classmates. Daichi and Kuroo start up a conversation with Ushijima and Bokuto but that too falls apart when a girl comes and invades Oikawa’s abandoned seat.

Class finally starts, Oikawa returns to his seat, elbowing both Kuroo and Daichi and telling them how they should take their chances in this class. 

After an hour, even Oikawa becomes mildly exasperated. 

The professor was energetic but boring. As expected of a good university, she explained the concepts well and answered any questions but she did so almost as if she were simply reciting from a textbook. Their classmates were talkative and would converse in whispers, giggling every time any of the five would ask a question or answer one. There was no one moment when any one of their classmates weren’t looking at them. 

“So how do you feel about this” Bokuto whispers to Ushijima. The taller spiker looks down at him, raising an eyebrow by just a millimeter.

“What do you mean?” Ushijima replies in a low rumble. 

“The rest of the class are girls. And they keep on staring at us. And we have these seats for the rest of the term.”

“It is mildly unnerving. I believe, if we do not pay them any attention, then they will turn their attention away from us-”

“You, boy. I will tolerate conversation but not at the volume you’re holding yours at.” Bokuto looks up and hears little giggles all around him and the professor is looking right at their corner. He turns around to see if Kuroo or Oikawa were talking loudly. They also look confused. 

“The one with the weird hair job.” 

Kuroo covers his mouth, stopping a noise from coming out of his mouth. Bokuto turns back around and he realizes  _ oh. She’s looking at me _ . 

“What’s your name?”

“Bokuto Koutarou, sensei.” He says, standing up and quickly bowing. He moves to sit back down. 

“If you would mind telling the rest of the class what was so important that you disrupted the lecture? Or would you like to balance this equation?” She taps the whiteboard and Bokuto recognizes it from one of his sisters’ textbooks. Was she meaning for it to be a form of punishment? Bokuto cocks his head a little, blinking. 

“I’ll balance the equation!” He chooses. 

“You go bro” Kuroo loudly whispers from behind him. 

Bokuto grabs a marker laying on the front desk, uncapping it, and sticking it on the back of the marker. He observes the equation. 

“Bokuto-kun” the professor asks. “You play a sport?”

“I bet it’s rugby!” Someone says.

“Basketball!” Another points out and Bokuto furrows his brow at the whiteboard, mildly confused, because why isn’t the teacher calling them out?

“Yes, sensei. I’m on the volleyball team.”

Cu +HNO 3 → Cu(NO 3 ) 2 \+ NO + H 2 O

Chemistry isn’t his strongest subject. Kuroo, the nerd, probably has this solved in his notebook already. He looks at the compounds. It’s be easy to get the nitrogen and oxygen over. The hydrogen will be easy enough to change around and then to separate nitrogen. Divide? No, not yet. Add, subtract. 

“That’s impressive. My little sister used to play volleyball. What position do you play?”

“Wing spiker!” He exclaims, finally getting a number. “I like learning and all but volleyball is just so  _ fun _ . Like, getting a ball and then  _ pow _ ! I hit it. It’s really satisfying and jumping makes me feel so  _ gwah _ and maybe you can come to one of our games when tournament season starts, sensei!” He exclaims, quickly writing down the last number. Ah, nope. Wrong number. He uses the side of his hand to erase the last number, making the 2 H 2 O a 4 H 2 O. 

“Have you started the problem yet?” The professor asks. More giggles. What’s so funny?

“Yeah! I think I got the answer right.” He caps the marker and tosses it onto the professor’s desk, mentally praising himself when the marker doesn’t roll off. 

“ _ Bo _ ” Kuroo sighs with a smirk and a false exasperated tone. “You could of at least shown the work so I could compare.”

“Aw” Bokuto’s shoulders droop after he sits on his stool. “I’ll remember next time. Hey, Wakatoshi. Did you get the same thing?”

Ushijima shakes his head. 

“I did not try to solve it. The professor hadn’t said so.” But he still writes down the original equation and Bokuto’s given balanced version of 3 Cu + 8HNO 3 → 3 Cu(NO 3 ) 2 \+ 2 NO + 4 H 2 O.

“Bokuto-kun, on you’re assignments, you will need to show the steps you took to reach your answer. Mental math isn’t acceptable in situations such as these. Now, class. In order to get this answer. . .”

Bokuto deflates. He expected at least a thank you. And he hadn’t even been talking when the professor called on him! He feels like he’s missing something. 

“Hey, Bokuto” Daichi whispers from behind him. Bokuto turns around and takes the notebook Daichi is holding out. “Can you show me the steps? She’s going too slow for my taste.” Bokuto brightens and eagerly takes the notebook, scribbling his work across the paper before handing it back to Daichi.

It was collectively agreed that none of them really like their chemistry class. The thought of going back tomorrow after lunch sent shivers up their spines.

It wasn’t like it was bad or anything. The material was interesting but the teacher didn’t pay attention to them unless they were raising their hand or she wanted to pick on them in some way. Even Oikawa admitted that as much as he enjoyed the gender ratio at first, reminding him of his fanclub back at Aoba Johsai. But as the clock neared the end of class, even he couldn’t ignore the pull to just  _ get out and eat lunch before I get eaten by the mob _ . 

Now Bokuto has a few hours to spare. Lunch was delicious, as usual, and he messed-up Kuroo’s outfit by convincing him to roll down the hill with him. 

Wakatoshi had to leave a half-hour earlier than the other three for his African and American Cuisine class. Then Daichi and Oikawa excitedly left for calculus and Kuroo for inorganic chemistry.

Which leaves Bokuto, alone. 

Of course the first thing he did was text Akaashi to see if he was busy. He drooped a little when the teen texted back that he had just started class. 

Bokuto hopped back to the apartment-dorm thing he shares with the rest of the guys. Quickly changing into a set of practice clothes, he jogs to the stadium for some practice. He waves to anyone who says hi and he probably would of started a conversation but  _ volleyball _ . 

The practice courts are empty, no one else from the team here. They’re probably at class. He wheels the ball cart out and he can remember each of the plays he did this morning. It’s not nearly as fun practicing on his own but it’s still fun! 

He stretches for a few minutes before going to the back of the court, practicing jump serves for a while before switching to tossing spikes to himself. 

The clock on the wall says he has ten minutes before he should start his cool down stretches. He holds the ball in his hands and thinks about what to do next. 

Once upon a time, he didn’t like volleyball. It never caught his interest. Before he became a started middle school, he had been a short kid, not a lot of muscle, not tall. He was mildly pudgy but it disappeared when he hit his first of many growth spurts. 

He remembers telling that Tsukki kid the same thing. How volleyball wasn’t fun for him but then one day it just  _ clicked _ . And now, looking at the ball, he wonders.  _ What would of happened if dad hadn’t signed me up for the neighborhood team _ ? Probably continue dancing ballet seriously, and then professionally. It makes his head hurt thinking about living a different life. And then he laughs because he can  _ not  _ imagine himself in a ballet outfit anymore. It just transforms into his Fukurodani uniform. 

He picks the balls off the floor, putting them back in the cart before storing it. He’s covered in sweat. That means he did good. He takes a shower, singing a garbled version of a song he heard Oikawa hum that morning, before he shuts the water off and changes. 

Now baking and pastry arts! With Wakatoshi! Bokuto knows that he himself  _ sucks  _ at cooking anything except for food grilled super simply and making cookies because of that one bake sale and because Akaashi taught him!

Bokuto likes Wakatoshi. He’s a good volleyball player and he’s a pretty nice guy. His real personality goes against the vicious person he becomes on the court, slamming balls down mercilessly. He remembers staring across the net at him in middle school, in high school. His team has played Shiratorizawa’s three times: once in middle school, twice in high school. Bokuto only won once: in high school. Yeah, he used to be bitter when his thoughts would turn to the Miyagi ace. It never looked like he enjoyed participating in the volleys, the same stoic look remaining on his face. 

But he had a similar opinion about Kuroo when they faced-off for the first time as first years in a practice match, when Bokuto was still getting used to his body after the most recent growth spurt. Always smirking, bugging the setter. Why is someone like this even on the court? But then Kuroo blocked, and he blocked, and he blocked again. He cracked jokes over the net and Bokuto could feel the itch of annoyance. He thinks he’d laughed. And then they became friends. 

Come to think about it, the only three people who didn’t leave him with a bad impression on first sight in terms of volleyball was shrimpy, Daichi, and Oikawa. Shrimpy is a bright ball of sunshine nobody could dislike. Even when he first saw Akaashi at the start of his second year he had been wary of the first year with his emotionless face and emotionless eyes that reminded all-too much of a certain Shiratorizawa spiker. Daichi had emitted an honest aura, someone you could trust, be honest to, and would be willing to give you a hug when times are rough. And Oikawa. . .he reminded Bokuto of Kuroo so all he had in mind was gaining another brother-in-mischief-arms.

He drops his sports duffle back at the apartment, gelling his hair back up before running to class because  _ thinking is too distracting and he’s going to be late _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any suggestions for headcanons you want to get smuggled into this fic, here are a list of some I snuck into this chapter (although some I already addressed in previous chapter)  
> Bokuto:  
> \- secret genius  
> \- owl fanatic  
> \- surprisingly, he danced ballet before playing volleyball  
> \- infinite energy  
> Daichi:  
> \- has a mischievous streak  
> \- really good at faking sleep  
> Kuroo:  
> \- science nerd


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo  
> Some character background stuff  
> And the Sunday 20:00-22:00 class you all have been waiting for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen chapters and you guys don’t feel like telling me that I haven’t written in Kuroo’s POV yet? Totally feeling the love here. . .
> 
> What I used for a certain professor’s lingual dictionary: https://www.csustan.edu/sites/default/files/ENGLISH/Perrello/Chaucer_glossary4-30.pdf  
> https://quod.lib.umich.edu/m/middle-english-dictionary

Kuroo Tetsurou likes to think himself as a simple man. He likes to think that deep deep  _ deep  _ down, that is true. 

Even after two weeks, it still feels weird to be living here, to be living with Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Sawamura. Kuroo is a man of science, but just this once, he could be convinced to believe that there’s something out there that made this possible. Because  _ how _ , how is he roommate with four other captains? And that they all know each other? And that even with the tension between Oikawa and Ushijima, the numerous ways all of them shouldn’t be able to get along, they’ve somehow found some sort of balance?

He lies across his bed, staring over at Bokuto’s side of the room. It’s a Sunday, and Kuroo had a quick lunch and is spending his one hour of break before heading to philosophy just thinking. Oikawa is at Starbucks, intent on being the better barista, Ushijima is doing his job as well, and Sawamura and Bokuto are in class. 

The best thing about all of this is that he gets to live with his best bro. He’d been scared, after high school, that his ties to all his friends would dissolve with school and the kilometers between them. But now he’s living with Bo. It’s fun.  _ Really  _ fun. 

He gets to mess around with Bo and Oikawa when the latter joins in. 

Kenma isn’t there to roll his eyes at him and say “Kuro, no” (but he can still imagine him saying it in his mind). 

He gets to discover all the different ways he can make Sawamura tick and also reaffirm his knowledge that  _ yes _ , Sawamura is probably one of the craftiest guys out there behind that deceivingly honest face. 

And Ushijima. . .Ushijima is probably a whole nother being himself. But the guy’s cool, chill, fun, and Kuroo wouldn’t of believed the more than occasionally oblivious and slightly dense man would of done something like piggy-back Sawamura if he hadn’t seen the video. 

Bo’s half of the room was a splatter of the same colors. Gold, black, grey, blue, with random insertions of colors like red and purple. He has a giant stuffed owl on his bed, sheets surprisingly plain. It was also usually not clean, but not really messy. Like organized chaos. He has the most random stuff but it’s always fun to look over at Bo’s side of the room and see how it looks like compared to the day before. 

Kuroo’s side of the room, on the other hand: neat, tidy, organized. Just as he likes it. Nice color scheme of red and black (and no, it’s not because of Nekoma no matter how many time everyone else tries to persuade him- he just likes how they look!). And then there’s the Nintendo DS Kenma got him for his birthday, a cat-calendar he was given as a graduation present (haha), photos of him and his teammates, both filled and empty photo albums because yes, he’s one of those people, a volleyball in the corner, and a Nekoma team photo on his bedside table because he’d rather forget about his parents’ existence. 

Bored, Kuroo raises his phone over his face, dialing the number because what’s the fun in just selecting the contact? He puts the phone on speaker, setting the device next to his head.

“Kuro” Kenma’s bored voice comes after three more redials, voice toned as if Kuroo had just talked to him. 

“Is that how you talk to your bestest friend, kitten?” Kuroo lamments.

“No, because Shouyou’s my best friend.”

Kuroo lets out a gasp. 

“This is what I get for making you vice captain?”

“I didn’t want an authority position.”

“Well, you’re the best at keeping Yamamoto under control.”

“I will never understand  _ why  _ you made him captain.”

“He’s maturing! Anyway, how has school been?”

“What’s been bothering you, Kuro?”

“Just bored. Friends call each other when they’re bored. I’m not in that big of a talking mood so just tell me what’s been happening. What new joys have you experienced as a third year? How’s shrimpy doing?”

Once realizing that Kuroo won’t be annoying him that much, Kenma semi-reluctantly starts talking about what’s been going on. Kuroo increases the volume and pads over to the study nook, grabbing one of Sawamura’s books from the shelf before returning to his bed. 

One of the ways Kuroo has realized he could learn more about his roommates is by reading the books they brought with them, which Ushijima organized on the bookshelf their second day here. They’d only bring books which they like and have probably read before, evident by the softness of the pages and the discoloration from the outside. The more well-loved ones even have little rips and tears either left alone or taped up. Pencil markings in some parts, annotations. 

Considering how much of a rule-follower Sawamura usually is, it was a nice surprise to see that he wrote in his casual-reads. Oikawa does the same, but it’s mostly funny little doodles. 

Kenma continues talking and rather than read the actual content of the book, Kuroo reads the notes written on the sides. It’s like he’s observing history itself. Different amounts of pressure put on the pencil, changing from pen to pencil, commenting on a comment. 

Kuroo lets out a small sigh, flipping the page. He’s already examined this one book so many times before- it has the most input on how Sawamura thinks and perceives the world. The book is a collection of short stories written by highschoolers across Miyagi a few years ago, probably part of some charity event. Or a competition. One of the excerpts is a short story about the relationship between two seventeen year olf boys revolving around the theme of fall. It also happened to be the story with the most comments, carefully written in pen and more mature handwriting, as if it were only recently Sawamura decided to admit to himself that he read this passage. 

Through these words, he forms a lot of opinions. He never lets them become facts. An educated guess based off of the private words that he sometimes feels like he shouldn’t read. He feels like Sawamura wasn’t supposed to give this book to Ushijima to put on the shelf. It’s like a secret treasure, a guilty read for Kuroo that always makes him feel at least a  _ bit  _ bad but he can’t help it. 

Even his parents, back in the days when they didn’t have to try and act like they like him, told him that he always wanted too much information, too much knowledge, too many secrets and too many words for one boy to carry. 

“Kuro.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been insulting you for the past two minutes.”

“Oh! Ah, sorry. I was reading.”

“Your roommates books? What have you learned about them?”

“Tch- still not going to tell them who they are, kitten. You’re going to have to wait for the great reveal.”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to find out who they are but okay. “

“. . .One of them wrote comments. Actually, two of them do, but I’m only talking about one of them.” He smiles at the book below him, stroking the well loved pages with carefully placed tape, cut thin to only cover as much space as needed, ink a type that doesn’t bleed through. Now that he thinks about it, he can imagine Sawamura leaning over this book, probably while sitting at a desk. “And it makes me think of them so much more differently now that I read it. Like, it’s nothing bad. You can say it just makes me like the guy even more ‘cause this tells me I’m right about him. But some of this stuff, it makes me want to just give him a hug.”

“Is it the same one who was insulted by one of the staff member’s on your first day?”

“Yeah.”

“Is his” Kenma sounds hesitant “Is it because his situation similar to yours?”

“No, no! His mom sounds like an angel from what he’s told me. I just. Kenma, why do I know so many people who are probably the most human people on the planet? Like, all four of them. They’re so  _ amazing _ .”

“I already know Bokuto is ‘amazing’.”

“That’s not the point, Kenma. When you finally meet them you’ll understand what I mean by how amazing all of them are.”

“Hmm. Are you going to tell them about your parents anytime soon?” Kuroo stiffens, rolling over and closing the book. He narrows his eyes at the phone, swallowing.

“What did they do this time?” Kuroo asks, voice as cold as ice. 

Kuroo and his parents. . .they don’t really get along. As in his parents are the scum of the earth who act like the perfect parents in public that it fooled the rest of the world and messed with little-Kuroo’s brain so much. He’d rather forget about them. They used to be good parents, probably up until his fifth year of elementary school. Then it was like a switch flipped in them and now he wishes he forget every memory he has of them, even the good ones. 

They hadn’t wanted him to go to college. They didn’t even know he got a scholarship until he had packed his bags and taken the bus the closest it’d go to his new home when they had a long night at work. They wanted him at home, to work for his father’s business, and stay with them. It would of been hell because there would of been nothing for Kuroo at home. 

He accepted the scholarship in secret. It wasn’t the first one he got, having made it to nationals twice (of course the first time he lost to Fukurodani in the quarter-finals, of course). He packed his bags and boxes with everything he’d need in the close future, spending a few thousand yen mailing the boxes to his new address. Then he’d went to numerous thrift stores with the rest of his stuff and sold it. He never wants to return to his parents house. And with that money, he bought a new phone with a new number, transferred all of his contacts, pictures, and information onto the new phone, and texted all his friends that this is his new number. 

It took less than a day to be back in all of his old group chats. 

And then he left.

He hopped on and off of numerous busses to get to his new home, used some money to spend the night at a hotel, his first day of real freedom. He called Kenma, told him what he did. That’s the first time he cried over something other than volleyball, more specifically a lost game. The whole time his heart had been pounding and he didn’t get any sleep that night. 

The next day, early in the morning after having the complimentary breakfast he headed to the dorm. He was the first one there and only when he stepped foot in the apartment-esque dorm with other people’s boxes as well as his own next to the door did he truly feel relief. It was even better when Bokuto arrived three hours later and Kuroo cried.  _ Again _ . And his friend didn’t ask why. The guy just cried along with him before the two of them broke down with laughter. 

“Your mom came and had tea with my mom. She didn’t see me but she was asking if she’s been in contact with you because you never answer any of her calls.”

“So you haven’t told your mom?”

“You told me not to.”

“Good.”

“It’s only a matter of time until they corner me or find a different way to try and get in contact with you. Once your school’s roster comes out, it’ll be even easier for them.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You should file a restraining order.”

“They haven’t done anything yet.”

“ _ Yet _ . Kuro, I saw what they did to you before. At least you have roommates who can help you out-”

“I’m not going to tell them. I’ll file a restraining order if they, I don’t know, come on my doorstep. But other than that, I just want to act like they’ve never existed. I mean, your family is a hundred times the family they’ll ever be.” Then his eyes land on the screen of his phone, properly, and his eyes widen. “Sorry Kenma! I have to go! I have class in ten.”

“What is it, chemistry?”

“Nah, had that a few days ago. Hate the professor. I think she has something against Bo. It’s philosophy, might I tell you- hey, don’t snort at me!”

“Nerd Kuroo.”

“I take that as a compliment. I’ll text you later!”

“Bye.”

* * *

“All week, ye impoverished souls toiled and labored”

Oikawa, without blinking or shifting his gaze, leans over to Kuroo. 

“Is it just me or is he kind of speaking in old Japanese or something?”

“It’s not just you” Kuroo whispers back, equally entranced. 

“And now, after not one nor two but  _ SIX DAYS THAI WAITED! _ ” The professor praclaims, dramatically gripping his closed fist to his chest. “Han it be prolonged no longer, fro this day forward, OPEN!” He lunges forward and Oikawa’s grin grows manic and Daichi leans back where he sits. “Your eyes. And thou shalt see the world for what it truly beeth! WILCOME TO EXTRATERRESTRIAL LIFE!”

The eighteen students sitting on the blankets laid on the grass slowly clap. 

It was Sunday. Eight-ten PM. The moon was high in the sky, a crescent. Upon arriving at the classroom two minutes ahead of time, the five of them saw the classroom was locked, had no lights on, and had a sign with a map of the school with an arrow telling them where to go. 

After less than an hour of persuasion on Bokuto’s half, Akaashi had also signed up for the class. Akaashi and Bokuto sit on a blanket together, Oikawa and Kuroo on one, and Daichi and Ushijima on the other, the three pairs sitting in a neat line. 

The professor, Dr. Weisse, is from Belgium. He also has a degree in early Japanese literature which probably explains the strange dialect he’s speaking in. 

Behind him, there is a portable projector screen set up, a cable leading to a foldable table with a laptop and briefcase on it. A portable desk, in essence, except that it looks nothing like a desk. 

“A noble aventure” Weisse says, hands clasped behind his back, chin held high “Hath gonne.”

“That means ‘a good chance has begun’ “ Bokuto whispers, leaning over to Oikawa and Kuroo’s blanket space. “According to ‘Kaashi but he even seems confused.” It couldn’t be more confusing than the first thing the professor saying being that they will never be taking notes in this class. 

“But, shaltow not seek truth, obscuring sothe with yeven lies. For example, I told all of you that I have a degree in early japanese literature, which is true, but I bet at  _ least  _ half of you took that as the reason for why I was speaking the way I was.” 

There is silence .

“Anyway!” He claps his hands together. “That is what we do everyday. We see a lie but we perceive it as the truth because of the information we are given. That is what most people do with the subject of extraterrestrial life. There are  _ so  _ many pieces of evidence for there being life out there but with a few words spoken by a scientist, that evidence is turned into something else altogether that takes us farther away from the truth and closer to living in a world filled with lies.”

“Oh, I like this guy” Oikawa whispers. 

“Why am I here” Kuroo whispers back. 

“This is very interesting” Ushijima joins in.

“Be quiet!” Daichi hisses. 

“Now, raise your hand if you firmly believe in life beyond earth!” Weisse continues. Everyone raises their hands. Everyone except for Akaashi, Kuroo, Daichi, and Ushijima. All of the other students look around to see who didn’t raise their hand. When they see the four, the gasps begin. Oikawa even boos them. 

“Settle down, settle down!” Weisse commands. “These four simply don’t believe because they’re living in a world of false perception.”

“Belieeeeeeeeeeve~” Oikawa says with a creepy grin and wide eyes which reflect the light of the moon. Akaashi scooches a little farther away from Bokuto and Kuroo tenses. 

“This is going to be horrible” Daichi grumbles. Ushijima nods in agreement. 

“It is almost as if there is a second Oikawa” Ushijima says. 

“Now, you, boy” the professor points to Daichi. “Why don’t you think there is life beyond earth?” Daichi stands up, giving a quick bow. 

“ _ Hai sensei _ . It’s not that I don’t believe there’s life beyond earth. There can be life like a type of bacteria. When you asked the question, I was thinking about stereotypical aliens.” Weisse nods. 

“Good, good, you may sit. You’re one of the honest type. Unfortunately for you, I  _ am  _ talking about organisms such as the stereotypical aliens. Creatures whose biology more closely resembles that of us humans. And, after a month of this class, at most, you will be able to explain with full honesty why there are extraterrestrial beings outside of our planet.”

“Dear gods” Kuroo whispers. “What madness did you drag me into, ‘Kawa?”

“Beautiful madness” Oikawa grins. “Don’t you agree, Bo-chan?”

“I LOVE ALIENS!” Bokuto exclaims. “SENSEI, THANK YOU FOR TEACHING US!” Most of the other students repeat the praise and Kuroo and Daichi helplessly look at each other while Ushijima’s frown deepens. 

“Three more months” Kuroo says with a pained face. 

“Three more months” Daichi repeats with a grimace. “I’m going to text Karasuno about this. I blame them for my lowered IQ.”

Then the professor went over to the laptop. A student turned on the projector on the grass. A TV show started playing. An american show, one that Kuroo doesn’t recognize but one that most of the class obviously does by their looks of excitement. He doesn’t understand  _ why-  _ the dub is so bad, first of all. Second of all,  _ what is going on _ ? All he knows is that a young looking guy walks onto somewhere in some sort of uniform with a female voice in his head and suddenly there’s a woman with the same voice saying some weird sounding word. Ooh, he thinks he’s seen that bald guy somewhere.

Then the intro song starts. The title appears. Kuroo has heard of this show before.  _ Star Trek: The Next Generation. _

“We will be watching one episode every class!” The professor exclaims with the music dramatically flaring behind him. “You’re homework, every week, will be to watch the next episode. Only one, no matter how much you want to binge the whole series.” Aws rise from the rest of the class. 

“Watching television. . .for homework?” Ushijima looks at Daichi for help but the ex-Karasuno captain looks like the statement caused him physical pain. Bokuto and Oikawa look even more ecstatic. 

“Bro!” Bokuto nearly crawls over Oikawa to talk to Kuroo. “You have to work a  _ lot  _ now so that we can get that TV!”

“I try!” Kuroo whines. “Bro, this is abuse of your broship!”

“But it’s worth it!” Bokuto says, elbowing his friend. Kuroo rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah.”

“Hey, pay attention to the show!” Oikawa hisses. 

After the first episode, a still confused Kuroo, Daichi, and Ushijima, a bored looking Akaashi who Bokuto is half clinging on to and bugging about how he liked the show. Only then did the professor pass out the syllabus. The packets would probably be brightly colored but they were printed out in greyscale making it harder to read. Especially in the bare lighting. 

Only Bokuto and Oikawa are energized by the time class ends at ten. 

“I just want food now” Daichi groans, stuffing his syllabus into his bag. Kuroo follows ensuite. Ushijima reads sections of the syllabus each time they enter an area with enough lighting to do so.

“Of course you’re starving” Kuroo says. “You only had an apple before coming to what Oikawa and Bo call a class.”

“That class is going to be testing my sanity” Akaashi drawls, joining Kuroo and Daichi. “For once, Kuroo-san, I will prefer to walk with you.” The three of them lookover to Bokuto and Oikawa, who have sandwiched Ushijima (still reading the syllabus) attacking with comments about aliens paired with enthusiastic arm waving. 

“How did he persuade us again?” Daichi asks, adjusting a strap of his bag. 

“He persuaded Bokuto” Kuroo says. “And from then, we were all doomed.” They allow a moment of silence to honor the loss of at least ten brain cells each before nodding in agreement to the statement. 

They exit the main campus area, walking to a ramen place. Ushijima is slowly looking more and more troubled. 

“Shouldn’t you help him?” Akaashi points out. “Ushijima-san looks far more uncomfortable than any of us.”

“He’s slowly expressing more and more” Kuroo mutters. “Good for him! This will help him with human interaction!”

“He knows how to interact” Daichi frowns. 

“Sawamura, I am merely trying to help a fellow teammate survive this world.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s older than you.”

Akaashi lets out a snort. They enter the ramen restaurant and only then does Bokuto cut off his rant with Oikawa to hop over a stool and wrap his arms around Akaashi. 

“Akaashi! Akaashi!” Bokuto exclaims, tilting his head so that the top of it is resting on the shorter first-years head. “I just realized something! Wanna know what?”

“It better not be about aliens, Bokuto-san.” He smoothly replies. 

“Well, it’s not! I just realized that we’re actually in the same grade now. Isn’t that awesome? Both you and me are first-years! It’s like we’re the same age!” 

Kuroo taps Daichi’s shoulder and holds a finger to his lips before pointing at Akaashi’s face, which now has a slight blush on the curves of his cheeks. 

“Maybe there’s another reason he went and graduated early” Kuroo whispers, sitting down next to Daichi. Daichi looks over at Bokuto and Akaashi but besides the blush, which could simply be because the younger is uncomfortable, he doesn’t see anything that could make him agree with Kuroo except for their proximity. But Bokuto loves being close to people, feeding off of compliments and hugs and more than the occasional casual touch. 

“You should read the syllabus” Ushijima says, talking for the first time after five minutes of silence. “The class might become marginally interesting.”

“Just tell me now, how much Star Trek are we watching?”

“. . .A lot.”

“Ramen’s on me” Kuroo groans, slamming his forehead on the edge of the wooden bar top. “I have reached rock bottom and now the only way to go is up.” He points up for emphasis. Ushijima pokes his finger. Kuroo looks up, raising his visible eyebrow. 

“What was that for?”

Ushijima shrugs. 

“Satori often poked people if they were pointing. I decided to do the same.” 

Kuroo’s face splits into a grin. 

“I think you’re getting the hang of interacting, Ushijima.”

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! When I started this fic, I had just finished watching the match where Karasuno lost to Aoba Johsai. I got my characterisation of Kuroo, Akaashi, and Ushijima from other fanfics, fanart (surprisingly), fancomics, and wiki pages. I had _no idea that Akaashi was a second year in canon_! I thought he was a third year! So for me, when I made Akaashi go to Teikoku with Bokuto, it was normal because, well: they’re close, they’re friends, he keeps Bokuto under control. But then someone commented about how smart Akaashi is for being in college and then I realized: “Akaashi was a second year. He should be a third year. I screwed up. . .” And then I re-realized: “I can just make Akaashi smart!” So that’s how Akaashi got into this fic. Honest! I had no idea ‘Kaashi was a second year until, like, chapter 4 (idkr)
> 
> You don’t know _how much_ it hurt my brain to look at a list of middle english and try to make that into sentences so that I don’t just write normal sentences except with “ye, thou, thy, haveth thee” scattered about. You are welcome for the mind numbing quality content that your english teacher can analyze for shakespearean sentence structure (JK the canterbury tales online pdf was my reference. Iwas going to do it for my 8th grade reading project last year. . .)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Oikawa POV chapter guest starring Seijoh graduates  
> Karasuno and kidnappings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys. . .highschool. Online school absolutely positively _suck_. Going in person gives you so much more knowledge and it's also less boring. And doing it online, there's too much temptation to just CTR + Shitt + T and open the google document for this fic. But, on the bright side, I get to buy Ender's Game and Jane Eyre for honors English. Such a big improvement from reading Romeo&Juliet and To Kill a Mockingbird.

Oikawa lays on a bed, glasses balanced on his nose, chin resting on a scrunched up pillow with his arms folded in front of it. He’s not actually on his bed. Why would he be there? He hasn’t even made it yet, the blankets all bunched up half on the bed and half on the floor. He’s flopped at the foot of Daichi’s bed, the screen of his laptop only showing his face before three other faces join his on the screen in quick succession. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa chirps. 

“Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi deadpans. To his right, Daichi’s eyes flit up from where they were previously analyzing his math textbook. A small smile appears on his face, remaining there even when he goes back to looking at discrete mathematics formulas.

“Makki! Mattsun!” Oikawa decides to chirk instead. The two graduates wear identical grins. 

“Hey, how’ve all of you been?” Hanamaki asks. Matsukawa rolls his eyes and nudges Hanamaki. So they’re in the same room. 

“I live with you, honey.” Matsukawa drawls. 

“I know, darling.”

Oikawa lets out a groan. That is the reaction the duo apparently wanted with the sound of a cackle and the slap of a high-five. 

“So how’s Tokyo been to you?” Hanamaki asks. “Iwa-chan doesn’t give us much updates and you haven’t been Skyping us!”

It’s the Sunday before their third week of school, also one week away from the start of Golden Week. Oikawa hasn’t had much time to do anything besides text and occasionally text his former teammates. Yahaba is settling in well with his position of captain, Kunimi also being a surprisingly good vice from what he’s heard. Kyoutani has gotten slightly more under control and the new first years are absolutely precious from the photos he was sent. 

He’s been busy. The professors handed out assignments at the start of their second class. The only one who seemed to not be unnerved by the amount of work they had was Bokuto, because of his splotchy schedule, and Ushijima because it’s only on a good day that Oikawa can successfully read him. Practice is good for now but the coaches and their captain reassured them that the intensity will pick up after Golden Week in preparation for practice matches they have lined up to get ready for the prefectural tournament in August. 

“Woo is me” Matsukawa sighs. 

They talk about their respective lives for a good ten minutes. Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa are studying business and it’s not even a month in and their teachers are already weary about them. Iwaizumi is studying sports science but he doesn’t like the program and has already applied to a few different universities where he’ll transfer after first semester, hopefully on a scholarship based off of what he’s already planned to do his term paper on. 

“Anyway, don’t you have roommates? What do you think about your whining all the time?” Iwaizumi deadpans from somewhere offscreen before entering the frame of view again, slouching onto his office chair. 

“Oho the roommates” Matsukawa grins. “Do tell.”

“Yes, do tell.” Hanamaki repeats, folding his hands under his chin. “Are they all guys? Any cute girls?”

“I feel so betrayed.” Matsukawa sighs. 

“Babe, you know I love you first.”

“Aww~ thank you honey bunchkin.”

“Ew. Disgusting.” Oikawa mockingly crinkles his nose. Daichi covers his mouth to muffle his laughter, eyes narrowing and grip tightening on the side of the textbook. “Oh, come on. You’re taking their side!?” Daichi shakes his head but his cheeks are turning red. Oikawa bites his lower lip in hopes that it’ll puch down the laughter bubbling inside of him because, yeah, the situation is very very very  _ mildly _ comedic, but not enough to render so much laughter. And it’s hard to get more than a short chuckle out of Daichi. But here he is, looking like he’s just heard the best joke of his life. 

“Wait, there’s a roomie there?” Matsukawa rolls into Hanamaki’s screen. “Show my your new brotha.”

“You’ll scare him away” Iwaizumi says. 

“Nah, it’s fine.” Daichi says. “I don’t think I have the option of leaving.” Oikawa tilts the laptop a little bit to the right and Daichi waves at the screen, casually sitting there with a book in his lap. 

“Oh!”

“Oh!”

Both Matsukawa and Hanamaki point at the screen. 

“We know you!” They say in unison. Iwaizumi lets out a snort. 

“Sawamura, was it?” Iwaizumi asks. Daichi blinks, obviously surprised the former ace remembers his name. “I’m surprised you’re still there.” Oikawa pouts. Daichi waves Iwaizumi off. 

“It’s fine. He’s not that bad a guy. . .opposite of my original thoughts.”

“ _ Dai-chan~”  _ Oikawa whines. 

“But I guess he kind of grew on me. Any survival tips?”

“ANYWAY” Oikawa interrupts “You won’t believe  _ who else  _ I live with!”

“What do you mean by that?” Hanamaki asks. 

“Like, it’s not just a room. This place is like a freaking apartment!” Oikawa exclaims, excitedly getting up. 

“Wish you luck.” Daichi calls. 

“No, my love, my dove, my garlic clove: don’t leave me!” Matsukawa cries. Daichi looks amused, the red gone from his face. 

“Now, all of you” Oikawa seriously says, leaving the room “Make sure you don’t tell any of the team who my roomates are. They haven’t told their teams so we’re planning on surprising you guys.” Hanamaki lets out a low whistle.

“It’s good that you’re rooming with Sawamura” Iwaizumi nods. “He’s serious and probably keeps you in line.” And then his eyes narrows. “Why did you say  _ they _ ? The hell are your other room-”

“Kou-chan, Tetsu-kun!” Oikawa says, barging into their room and twisting so that the pillow flies between the gap made by his head and laptop rather than hitting him straight in the face. “My yearmates want to meet you!” 

“It’s just me!” Bokuto grins from where he’s putting… something. Some unidentifiable thing on Kuroo’s bed. “Oh, man. Sorry- I almost hit your laptop. Kuroo’s working.” And then he shakes his head. “Meet me? You’re talking to someone? PEOPLE!” He cries and bounces over to Oikawa, tossing the second pillow he holds over his shoulder back onto the rumpled red and black bed. He waves from over Oikawa’s shoulder. “HI!!!!” And then he looks back at Oikawa and points at Iwaizumi. “Is that Iwa-chan?” He loudly whispers. 

“ _ Yes _ ” Oikawa loudly whispers back. 

“Hey, I know you!” Hanamaki exclaims. “You’re that ace! Top 5?”

“Yeah! Hey, Oikawa. They know me!” Bokuto exclaims. Iwaizumi looks surprised. 

“This is a surprise” he says. “Who’s” he grimaces “Tetsu-kun?”

“Kuroo” Bokuto chirps. “He’s my best bro. He was the captain of Nekoma!” Hanamaki’s eyebrows raise a tiny bit. 

“Didn’t they loose to Karasuno in the Interhigh?”

“Uh huh.” Bokuto says and then points at himself. “And then we won it! Itachiyama looked a little angry when I got set point first.”

“Kiyoomi-kun had texted me he was rather disappointed.” A new voice asks. “What sort of gathering are we having?” Oikawa flinches and Bokuto lets out a shocked yelp. Matsukawa rolls over Hanamaki and off the bed. Iwaizumi’s eyebrows raise higher than humanly possible. 

“Oh shit” Hanamaki whispers. Matsukawa reappears at his own corner of the screen, no longer using Hanamaki’s camera. 

“Oh shit indeed.”

“Shittykawa” Iwaizumi starts. 

“Why do you guys keep on using that word!?” Oikawa wails. 

“Oh, it is your former teammates” Ushijima blinks. “Hello. Anyway, I couldn’t find the marker we use to keep track of Kuroo’s progress in obtaining the money for the TV. Do you happen to know where it is?”

“Oh, it’s in the corner drawer of the kitchen with the wallets.” Bokuto says. “How much do we have?”

“I believe it will not be long before we will be able to purchase it.”

“Love you too Ushiwaka!” Oikawa glees, enjoying the looks on Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa’s faces. Ushijima turns around, his expression confused. “It was metaphorical.” Ushijima nods. 

“I understand. In that case, I love you as well Oikawa. Koutarou.” And then he walks back down the hall to continue doing whatever he was doing. Iwaizumi has turned red. Matsukawa has gone on mute with the camera pointing at the ceiling fan. 

“I can’t believe this” Hanamaki gasps. He shakes the screen, video becoming blurred. “OIKAWA HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US? HOW DID HE CONVERT YOU? I SWEAR I’M COMING OVER TO TOKYO TO SAVE YOUR STUPID A-”

Bokuto presses mute button on the keyboard, shutting turning off all audio. 

“Well, they’re noisy” Bokuto points out. Then he puts a hand on his heart. “Wakatoshi said he  _ loves us _ .”

“I know” Oikawa sniffs, wiping an invisible tear. “They grow up so quickly.”

“Why were they so surprised when he came? Just wondering.” 

Oikawa hums. Now that he thinks of it. . .when  _ did  _ he stop disliking and hating Ushijima? The feeling had been there ever since his middle school days, festering and growing larger than what he felt about Tobio-chan. It hasn’t even been that long. Two weeks, plus almost two more with the weeklong practice and moving in. 

“I. . .used to hate him. A lot.” He says, readjusting the laptop. “And the rest of my team felt the same because we’d always win and then Ushiwaka would come in and crush us.” Bokuto nods. 

“I feel ya. Almost every interhigh we played Intachiyama. Sakusa’s a good guy and all but his team is so OP. In my first and second year, we always lost to them, but it felt so  _ good  _ beating them in the semifinals after the third years had left for the Summer Interhigh.” He folds his arms behind his head. “Ah~ that felt good.”

“Yeah, except we never beat him.” Oikawa says. “But now. . .he’s not a bad guy. People aren’t supposed to be able to make such good milkbread without using weird drugs or something.”

“Oikawa?”

“Yes?”

“We muted them. But I don’t think we muted  _ us _ .”

Then, so very slowly, the two of them turn to look at the computer screen. Matsukawa is rolling around again, flitting between squares. Iwaizumi’s mouth is quickly moving and his eyebrows are furrowed. He doesn’t look angry. Or upset. Just annoyed. Probably because he heard what Bokuto said. 

Oikawa quickly closes Skype and shuts the computer. 

“Are you sure that was a good idea?” Bokuto says. “I mean, once I didn’t pick up calls from ‘Kaashi and when I finally  _ did _ he was, like,  _ super angry  _ and an angry Akaashi is a scary Akaashi because he didn’t really look angry but he looked super disappointed. You get it?”

“I get it” Oikawa blankly says because Maki and Mattsun will just tease him for being a scaredy cat and about Ushiwaka but Iwaizumi will probably be angry while hiding the fact that he’s probably disappointed and sad with Oikawa for hanging up on him like that. Their schedules are just going to grow more crowded. At least he’s planning on going home for Golden Week. “Iwa-chan is going to kill me.”

“How far is where he lives from where we live?” Bokuto asks. 

“I didn’t take the bullet train, and I had no transfers. . .almost two hours?”

“Then you have two hours until you die. Choose your next actions widely.” 

  
Oikawa’s mood lightens considerably. 

“Thank you, Bo-chan, but I think I’ll just call Iwa-chan after Kuroo gets back. I’ve done this a few times- I’ll be fine.” Then he longingly looks at the computer. “Ah, but that felt nice. Not even half an hour, I think.”

“You can always call back?” Bokuto offers. 

“Hell no.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Three hours later, it’s been an hour since Kuroo returned and filled up the money-meter with more red before grabbing his stuff and going to English with Daichi and Ushijima. Oikawa finally decides to pick up his phone. Matsukawa and Hanamaki, as expected, had texted a little bit about ten minutes after Oikawa had hung up on them. But it was only the two of them, no texts from Iwaizumi. Oikawa frowns at this.

He keeps his gaze steady on Iwaizumi’s profile picture, a picture of him from their second year and they wanted to reenact their childhood days. Which led to Iwaizumi going bug hunting with Oikawa trailing after him with a bag of jars and the two of them getting covered in mud. It was a good memory. 

Lying on his back on his unmade bed, Oikawa presses the ‘ _ call _ ’ button. He lets it ring. One, twice, three times, even more before it puts him on voicemail. He holds the phone away from his face, redialing before it could record the sound of his inhales and exhales. It’s only him in the apartment. Three in class, one gone to hang out with a certain supposed-to-be-a-third-year setter/vice-captain turned manager. 

His breath catches when the ring stops, the other end picking up. 

“Iwa-chan” he starts. 

“Tooru!” A familiar voice, unwanted at the moment, interrupts. “How are you dear?”

“Okaa-san!” Oikawa exclaims, quickly shifting his tone considering it’s the wrong Iwaizumi to pick up. He got the mom instead of the son. He forget that Iwaizumi goes home for the weekend to spend time with his mom, little siblings, and his big brother (if he was home). “I’m doing just fine! Is Hajime there?”

“Oh, he hasn’t come out of his room yet. He told me not to disturb him because he was busy doing his homework.” Her voice turns a bit strange. “But Sora came back about two hours ago and went to greet him with some takeout of agedashi tofu for them to talk over but Hajime just yelled at Sora to not bother him and to take the food with him.”

Oikawa swallows. Iwaizumi. . .yelled at Sora? Sora, his older brother who wasn’t always there but loved all of his siblings dearly. He was the closest in age to Hajime, being only four years older than his younger brother. They were really close thanks to that in part. The Iwaizumi’s were a wonderful family, the four siblings never fighting amongst each other. Especially Hajima and Sora. And, he’s pretty sure, this is all his fault. 

But only because he hung up on him? And maybe because he’s buddy-buddy with Ushiwaka now?

“Can you give the phone to him?” Oikawa asks after swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“Of course! If there’s anyone who can get to him, it’s you. I don’t think he’s ever had such a weird mood.” The lump in his throat grows heavier. 

He hears mom Iwaizumi start walking, phone moving away from her face most likely. After hearing her walk up the stairs, knock on the door, tell her son who’s on the phone, and then whisper into the phone: “Here, I put it on speaker for you. Sora took the other two to the park and I’ll be downstairs. Don’t worry about privacy.” 

Oikawa then learns what it sounds like for a phone to be slid over carpet. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaims. “How are you doing?” There’s a moment of silence. 

“What the hell- how did you get on the phone?”

“I called but your mom picked up and slid me under the door.” Oikawa frowns at how he sounds. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why would you ask that?” 

“You don’t sound so good.” No reply. Still no reply. Time to bring out the big guns. “Hajime.”

“It’s nothing, alright? Can you hang up now?”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because.”

Oikawa snickers at his petulance. “I’m not going to hang up, Hajime.”

“Well, I’m currently trapped by my blankets and I don’t want you to hear me struggle.” Any other day, Oikawa would of laughed and ended the call for his best friend. But then there’s the hours of radio silence, lack of taunts and nicknames, his voice. And it can go either way whether he’s actually one move close from wrestling with the sheets being true or false. He also didn’t sound embarrassed. So maybe he was lying? “I’m telling the truth- they won’t let go of my legs.”

“So clumsy” Oikawa says, rolling over. “We’ve known each other for how many years now Hajime?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Exactly! This is what you’re making me do by not answering me the first time. What’s really bugging you now?” Oikawa hears something. Light thuds which grow louder. Footsteps. Then breathing. He put it off speaker. He only hears Iwaizumi’s breathing. And then it shudders. And his heart clenches. And then there’s a sniff and Oikawa’s grip tightens on the phone. 

Two of the strongest people he knows broke down in this room, with only him as witness. Now he’s the best friend on the other end of the line and there’s no one there to comfort Iwaizumi. The last time he saw him cry was at the Spring Interhigh prelims. And before that was in a middle school game against Shiratorizawa. The last  _ non volleyball  _ time he saw his best friend cry was when he fell down the stairs and sprained his wrist and twisted his ankle.

“I just missed you” Iwaizumi says. If there’s one thing Oikawa used to be jealous about his friend for when they were kids was how Iwaizumi wasn’t a messy crier. The tears would come and he usually wouldn’t actually cry. He was a quiet crier. “My whole life, you’ve always been right  _ there _ . And now there’s a few hours between us. I always worry because what if you overworked yourself? What if people aren’t treating you right? What if the team is full of little shits? But, I guess seeing the guys you’re living with made me kind of feel better but it made me feel worse” his voice cracks “and it just came crashing when you hung up cuz I can’t just cross the street to your house anymore to continue the conversation or hunt you down at lunch.” His breathing is heavy and Oikawa allows him a few moments to get his breathing steady again. 

“I’m always a phone call away.”

“It’s not the same.”

The silence is awkward. 

“Well, Daichi makes sure I don’t overwork myself. We always leave practice together, staying if one of us wants to practice more. And when I go in my freetime, Bokuto usually comes with me to practice his receives.”

“The team here is nice too. Although I’m not actually playing. . .” that brings another sniff. Oikawa bites his lower lip. He remembers talking to Iwaizumi about why he’s not going to play in college, and that’s because he’s not the best at school already. Volleyball would distract him. And with his plans to move school at the end of the term, it would hinder the school’s team if he joined. Or it would hinder him even more. 

“Tell me about who  _ is  _ playing, then. I know Makki and Mattsun are. Any other familiar faces?”

“Ah, yeah. There’s two Karasuno graduates. Sugawara and Azumane. I’m pretty sure they’re friends with Sawamura.”

“Yeah, they are! Suga came after we moved in because, well. I told you about meanie director bad talking my roommate?” The smooth topic shift calms down Iwaizumi, he can tell. Iwaizumi cares about others, possibly more than himself. That’s what made him such a good ace. He didn’t want the glory. He just wanted to make their team win and have the joy of victory. 

“Oh gods. Don’t tell me. It was Sawamura, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

On the other end, Iwaizumi goes off on a rampage about this is  _ exactly  _ why he was worried about Oikawa leaving Miyagi. It was kind of funny because he did use him being a country boy in the big bad city as a reason. 

“Then, you told me someone else knocked him out with, what. They punched him? I’m guessing it was Bokuto, maybe? He seems too friendly but maybe he has a temper.”

“HAHA!” Oikawa grins at this. “It was with a tray of rice. And it’s probably the person you least expect-”

“Sawamura?”

“Gods, no! It was Ushiwaka!” 

“. . .You’ve  _ got to be kidding me _ .”

“I’m not I’m not!” Oikawa exclaims. “According to Kuroo he just stood up and went like  _ BAM!  _ Because he was being annoying and wouldn’t shut up. Like, he actually said that.”

“Well, I also used to think that Sugawara was a pretty nice guy. But then he started talking to the demon duo.”

They talk for an hour. About nothing in particular, jumping sporadically from subject to subject which would make any lesser man confused but not them. 

“Iwa-chan. The first thing I’m going to do when I come back for Golden Week is give you a hug.” He resolutes. 

“Nah, I’m fine.” Iwaizumi sounds like himself again. “You’ll just cling like leech for an hour.”

“For an hour? You underestimate my leeching abilities.”

“You forgot my mom makes milk bread for you. She’ll definitely make a few loaves for you to take back to. That’ll get you off me just fine.” There’s a faraway sounding voice on the other end. Iwaizumi calls back to them. “Dammit. I’m going to have hang up now. My mom’s calling me down for dinner.”

“Okay!” Oikawa chirps, happy his friend is alright now. “I’ll text you before bed, Iwa-chan.”

“Alright. I’ll hear from you the-”

“WAIT!” 

“What?” Oikawa can see Iwaizumi’s fake look of annoyance on his face. 

“Were you jealous too?”

Silence. 

“What?”

“I told Ushiwaka I love him. Don’t worry- love you Hajime!” Iwaizumi laughs, so many kilometers away. 

“Love you too, Tooru.”

* * *

  
  


Suga, Asahi, and Kiyoko finally got the time to visit Karasuno. They haven’t met the little new first years yet and Suga is already imagining them as tiny little tots with onigiri cheeks. He can just smush and spoil them and mold them into perfect miniature Sugas. 

“Koushi,  _ please  _ don’t both the first years too much” Asahi begs, as if reading his mind. Suga rolls his eyes. 

“Of course not! And what if I do? You’ll probably be too busy with Noya and Tanaka and Kiyoko will be with Yachi.” Kiyoko looks up upon hearing the name of Karasuno’s official second-year manager. 

“Hitoka” she simply says. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.” Koushi smirks at Asahi, as if that line answered all of life’s questions. 

The sounds of volleyballs smacking and shoes squeaking grow louder and louder. The three of them hurry. Ennoshita is standing by the gym doors, as if waiting for them. It seems like he’s grown a few centimeters, a new sort of maturity held in his eyes. 

“Hey!” Karasuno’s captain calls. There’s a shout from inside of the gym. Then a very audible “BOKE!”

“Ah, Hinata” the three graduates say at the same time before laughing. They climb up the stairs and kick off their shoes. Hinata screeches to a halt from behind Ennoshita. He hasn’t grown any taller but he still manages a two meter long jump to stand before Suga and hug him. 

“SUGA-SAN!” Hinata says before going to Asahi who eeps at the sudden contact. “ASAHI-SAN!” And then he reverently holds his hands out to Kiyoko. “Shimizu-san.” Hinata then proceeds to almost pass out when Kiyoko quickly but warmly hugs him. 

The first years line up- there are, surprisingly, five of them. All of them played volleyball in middle school which the three learn after introductions commence. They look at Suga and Asahi with reverence and Kiyoko with a different sort of reverence. 

“Go back to practicing your serves!” Ukai shouts, walking over with Takeda smiling at his heels. The three don’t hesitate to hug the coach and the faculty advisor. “You little brats” he grins. “How have you all been doing?” 

The three entertain the adults for a little bit, refusing to call the coach anything other than Ukai-san and Takeda anything other than Takeda-sensei. The first- years turn second years then steal them away. 

“I have news!” Hinata exclaims, pulling Kageyama with him. Suga notices that he’s holding the setter by the hand. Everyone was so proud when the two idiots finally got together. According to Yamaguchi, Tsukishima had  _ smiled _ . 

“Oh? And what is this?” Suga asks, folding his arms. 

“I got Inuoka and Lev to break into Daichi-san’s university and find his schedule and take a picture of it! I didn’t look at it yet ‘cuz I didn’t know what you would say about it.” He shoves his phone, which appeared out of nowhere, towards Suga’s face, making the setter flinch back at the sudden movement. He wonders how Lev and Inuoka managed to be sneaky and get inside a university. Actually, how did they even get his schedule? Did they find a computer? Did they find Daichi? 

“Yes, finally! I wonder what classes the guy is taking. Did he select his major yet?” Tanaka exclaims, bounding over. Noya chose to continue receiving the first years serves. Kinnoshita, Ennoshita, and Narita only looked at the small crowd for a moment before helping the first years with their form. Even Tsukishima and Yamaguchi wander over to peek at the device in Suga’s hand. 

“Okay, let’s see” Suga humms. 

“That’s a lot of volleyball practice! So cool! Do you have that much practice, Suga-san?”

“No” Suga says. “We only have one practice a day.”

“I thought Sawamura was supposed to be the intelligent one” Tsukishima says, long fingers reaching to point at Tuesday and Thursday. “He’s going to bed after one in the morning, with practice in a few hours.”

“I’ll call him later.” Kiyoko firmly says. 

“Oh my gods,  _ why _ .”

Sunday night. Eight to ten at night. Extraterrestrial Life. 

Suga already has a feeling why that class is there. Actually, he knows. Daichi had called and ranted about it every Sunday about how weird but somehow interesting the show they watch is but the class seems to be filled with wackjobs. They played with  _ tinfoil  _ last time. Sunday night calls are always very entertaining .

“I knew Bokuto is a bad influence” Tanaka growls, placing his hands on his hips, upturning his nose. “We gotta rescue him from Tokyo. That place ain’t good for him.”

“I’ll call Akaashi and ask him if Bokuto-san has been behaving appropriately” Kiyoko says. 

“Isn’t Daichi-san coming home for Golden Week?” Hinata asks. “We can kidnap him then!” The group looks at each other, and then at the phone, and then back at each other again. And then they nods. 

They have one week. One week to plan a kidnapping. 

“I heard the word kidnapping!” Noya exclaims, bouncing over. “Ryu, I didn’t know we were going to do that again!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOLDEN WEEK GOLDEN WEEK GOLDEN WEEK IS COMING UP!  
> Also, get reading for some surprises and things you probably never saw coming. This fic has to have drama, right


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a nice day. No school, a TV, the promise of Ushijima's delicious bento boxes and only a few hours until Daichi and Oikawa will get to see their families. But, as usual, the day doesn't go as planned. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the 3000+ hits and almost 300 kudos <3! Enjoy this chapter!
> 
> I spent 2 hours looking up online 3D volleyball jersey and kit designer websites. I played around a lot, but nothing really look right. So, all of you have to wait until I write the chapter with the description of their team jerseys and use your brain to make a mental image of how the jersey’ll look like which will either end up looking pretty good or absolutely horrible rather than getting a nice image of a computer generated jersey haha~  
> Day 2 of hating online school

It was the last Sunday of April: the 27th. It was also the last class they had before classes would resume on the twelfth after the end of Golden Week’s festivities and some time off for all students and teachers. 

And, because it’s a Sunday, the last class they have is, sadly, Extraterrestrial life. It went as usual: everyone in the class being excited except for Akaashi, Ushijima, and Daichi. But what about Kuroo? Well, the thing is. . .

Kuroo wasn’t there. 

And none of them knew why. 

Texts would get no answers. Phone calls would go to voicemail. They even called the front office faculty to see if Kuroo signed in for work, but no. It was like he disappeared. Kuroo had walked back from English with Ushijima and Daichi. He had walked with them to the grassy area with his materials for class. It was concerning that they somehow lost a 188 centimeter tall teen whose height was only increased by his hair. 

A long long  _ long  _ two hours later, time spent watching  _ Star Trek _ , video clips, and making tin foil hats finally ended. Akaashi quickly said good night and went back to his dorms across the campus. The four of them started their trek home. Ushijima made dinner before they left. 

“I’m so  _ hungry _ ” Bokuto whines, right on cue, a minute down the street from their apartment. His stomach grumbles in agreement. He had practiced at the gym with Oikawa before coming to class. It was obvious by the shadows that only darkened as the day went by that Ushijima hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, once again. And he had chosen to work on his assignments and essays rather than take a nap. 

“Same” Daichi says, subconsciously rubbing his stomach for a moment before his hand falls back to his side. “What’s for dinner again?”

“Pasta” Ushijima says. “With white sauce and chicken. You will have to wait twenty minutes, though, since I need to make the pasta and reheat the sauce.” Even Oikawa groans at this. “Don’t whine. Cold sauce isn’t as delicious as warmed sauce.”

They crowd into the elevator, listening to the soft music play. They reach their floor, hunger driving them. They have snacks. There’s Oikawa’s milkbread stash and Kuroo’s Pocky collection. 

“I’m so  _ hungryyyyyy _ ” Bokuto says again. Oikawa sticks his gey into the hole, and then pauses. He leans forward and puts his ear against the door. And frowns. 

“Oikawa, open the door already.”

“Shh.” The setter snaps. “Be quiet, Dai-chan. There’s something going on in there.”

“Oh, then Kubro’s home!” Bokuto exclaims. He shoves Oikawa aside, twists the key, and opens the door. “HEY WHERE WERE YOU-” he cuts himself off. “Bro.” Kuroo looks up form where he’s sitting on the couch. The coffee table is pulled forward so that his legs can rest on it. He’s holding a few sticks of Pocky with one hand. His phone goes off with an alarm on the coffee table. He eats another stick of Pocky. 

“That’s the pasta” Kuroo casually says. “I already heated up the sauce so we can go head and have dinner after I see who gets the set.” Because, of course, Kuroo isn’t just sitting on the couch eating Pocky and doing nothing. No, he’s also holding a brand new TV remote, increasing the volume just a little bit on the honestly humongous TV that’s showing a volleyball match. And it’s sitting on a polished black TV stand that already has some CDs and DVDs stored in it. 

“YES OH MY GODS!” Oikawa jumps over the back of the couch, joining a cackling Kuroo on the couch, stealing one of the Pocky from between his fingers. 

“Bro, when did you do this?” Bokuto exclaims. Kuroo grins and winks. Daichi helps set the table while Ushijima checks the match score before going to drain the pasta. 

“Well, I actually got enough money for a TV a little while ago. I thought it’d be nice to invest in a stand too. I mean, this place already feels like home. Why not make it even better? This is the home I always wanted to have.” There’s something sad in his eyes. Oikawa doesn’t really understand, but the final line hits something inside of him:  _ This is the  _ home  _ I always wanted to have _ . He’s not going to ask any questions today so he instead decides to give the taller teen a hug. 

But the place is actually started to look lived in with the empty gap in the floor now filled in. The two couches. The coffee table with a red meter drawn on a sheet of paper with a marker capped next to it. Two textbooks. The large blank wall to the left of the couches with the framed photos of their teams, smiling at them. The kitchen floorboards with areas by the table where the polish is scraped off thanks to the chairs. Barely visible chips in the wall of the hallway to the bedrooms from when Bokuto and Kuroo would push their way to the kitchen before Daichi would kick one of them in the back to get past them. The endearing succulents scattered around the place. Sitting in silence in the decorated study room which everyone laments should of been kept as a bathroom. The kitchen with utensils and pots and pans that don’t even match and used to have different spots in the kitchen depending on who put the dishes away until they all sort of understood where everything should go. 

“Dinner is ready.” Ushijima deadpans. Oikawa releases Kuroo from his hold. 

With the size of the TV, all of them are able to watch the game after a little bit of maneuvering. As usual, Ushijima’s cooking is absolutely delicious. They’re lucky that they’re volleyball players, having to eat more than the usual person so that they don’t burn too many calories and so they can keep their muscle build. As one set becomes the second, they talk about the different things that are going on in the match. Oikawa points out that he’s going have a better toss than the setter on the screen and that Ushijima and Bokuto better get ready for them to have their own type of god-like quick. It makes Daichi smile. Because even if Shiratorizawa and Fukurodani and Aoba Johsai never had a quick like that, that they were never  _ able  _ to have a quick like that, he’s confident that now they’ll be able to. 

“When are you guys leaving for Miyagi?” Kuroo asks. “It’s just you two, right?” He points two fingers at Daichi and Oikawa. 

“I’m leaving just before noon tomorrow” Daichi says, rubbing the back of his head. “My mom just emailed me the ticket. I printed it out at the library.”

“I’m leaving at two in the afternoon.” Oikawa chirps. “Ushiwaka, you’ll make me bento for the train ride, yes?” Ushijima nods. 

“Of course.” Daichi perks up and he raises a hand.

“Pack me a bento too. Actually, give me Kuroo’s too- I’m going to need it for my withdrawal.”

“Two weeks without Wakatoshi’s food would be torturou.” Bokuto sighs. “Good thing I’m staying here then!”

“No, Sawamura, you can’t take my bento!” Kuroo pleads. “How am I supposed to have nice picnics and stuff then?”

“You’re such a cat.” Daichi rolls his eyes and looks back at the TV. “But, I guess you can keep it. I’ll just take Bokuto’s. You did get us that TV afterall.”

“You can always take my bento!” Bokuto beams. 

“Thank you.” Daichi says. “I’ll hold you to your word.”

Desert is eating a large bowl of mochi that Bokuto got from the store the day before. Daichi sits on the smaller couch with Oikawa. Bokuto is happily curled up between Kuroo and Ushijima, his legs in Ushijima’s lap with his head on Kuroo’s, who would feed him mochi with a tap. After the game ends, it’s switched to a chanel playing dubbed american films. None of them recognize what the movie is, but it was something to do with cars and robberies? Very fancy cars too. There’s a lot of explosions and car flips too. 

Daichi is the first one to go to bed, with his early morning and needing to pack when he wakes up. Ushijima joins him, since one of the reasons he’s staying in Tokyo is because his friends are coming down from Miyagi to hang out with him and also re-explore the city. Eita was intent on dragging them to the karaoke bar they had visited last time they came for Nationals. He wants to pick them up from the station. 

Oikawa joins when the credits speed by and switch to the next movie in the series. Kuroo tells Bokuto to wake him up when he wants to go to bed, poking his friend’s spiky hair before tilting his head to the side and falling asleep. Bokuto continues staring neutrally at the TV, the glows of different colored lights dancing across his face. 

Near the middle of the movie, there’s a flashback to a car crash. Bokuto winces at this. It brings something up in his gut and it looks  _ super  _ realistic. He reaches over to the remote (they have a  _ TV  _ now wowowowowowow he already texted Akaashi about it but  _ wow  _ he should text him again) and turns the TV off. Then he wakes up Kuroo. The two head to bed. 

Bokuto finds that he isn’t actually tired. He hides under his blanket with his phone, silently watching some volleyball videos Komi had put on the group chat but Bokuto never got around to seeing. 

He still isn’t tired at three in the morning but he turns off his phone anyway and pads across the room to put it on charging. Somehow, he falls asleep. And when he wakes up two hours later, not sleepy at all, to Ushijima walking past his door to go on his morning jog, he remembers the dreams he had and frowns at the strangeness of them. It was a different kind of strange, a strange he never thought of before. He quickly changes and knows he has a few minutes until Wakatoshi actually leaves, taking that time to spike his hair. He’s done it so many times, he doesn’t need a mirror anymore. Then he quietly exits, just as Wakatoshi is about to leave, and joins him on his jog. 

It gets the weird jitters he’s feeling out of his body.

* * *

Kuroo swings his legs from where he’s sitting on the chest of drawers located in the middle of the room across from Oikawa and Daichi’s beds. On either side of him are dwindling piles of clothes and miscellaneous objects. More on his left side, which is Oikawa’s stuff, than his left. 

“Toss me my socks.” Daichi says without looking up, raising a hand expectantly.

“Start tossing me my books” Oikawa says, snapping his fingers and looking up. Kuroo grabs the socks first, tossing them perfectly to Daichi’s hands before taking one of Oikawa’s books and gently throwing it underhand to the setter. 

It goes like this for five more minutes and Oikawa is all packed up, Daichi merely rearranging the last of his stuff inside of his suitcase so that there’s room to bring stuff back. When Bokuto had come back from his jog with Ushijima, he had come back with two little owl keychains made out of string that he’d found at a corner store for Daichi to give to Tsukishima and Hinata as a present.

“Thank you Tetsu-kun!” Oikawa exclaims, hauling his suitcase off the bed. 

“Thanks Kuroo” Daichi says without looking up. Oikawa exits the room with a new pair of clothes to change into after showering and treating himself to a bath on the groundfloor. Ushijima and Bokuto had already showered and gone to the baths. Kuroo decided not to partially so that he could spend more time with Sawamura before he’d leave but also because he’s not that big of a fan of baths. Except maybe a good game or practice.

“So I noticed that you’re even more of a nerd than I first thought you were.” Kuroo blinks and notices that Sawamura is looking at him, a smirk on his face. Kuroo’s content look shifts into a provocating grin. 

“Oho? And why do you say that?”

“You read a lot. I’ve also seen this in your room quite often. Didn’t take you as much of a reader. But if you like it that much, Koushi has a spare which he’s always trying to pawn off.” He raises a worn book that Kuroo instantly recognizes. His heart speeds up.

“Um well uh yeah? I like to read. I don’t need my own copy. It wasn’t that interesting. I’ve just bee bored and needed something to read.” 

Sawamura rolls his eyes and turns his head, putting the book back in the suitcase. His heartbeat almost returns to normal.

“So it was the comments you liked.” Sawamura doesn’t look angry or anything. Not like how someone should react upon reading something that’s probably the closest thing they have to a diary. “I forgot I gave it to Ushijima to shelve but it’s fine that you read it.” Kuroo cocks his head, frowning. 

“What do you mean by you’re fine that I read it?” Sawamura gives him a Look. “I don’t mean anything by that! Geez! It’s just, the comments. They seemed really personal and stuff. Intimate, in a way. Like a diary.”

Sawamura nods in understand. He zips up the suitcase and then moves to sit at the edge of the bed, crossing his arms. He looks intimidating, even though he’s sitting on a bed and he’s at a lower elevation than Kuroo. The muscle in his left bicep pulses under the striped blue and white polo he wears. 

“That book is like a lucky charm” Sawamura says at last. “It’s weird. It’s purely coincidental, but after I write in most of it each time, I always end up making good friends. My mom bought it for me in my first year of middle school. She gave me the idea to write in it so that when I reread it, I will always smile no matter how boring it is. So I can think more. I made my first friend, Ikejiri, after that.

“The second time was in my second year. There was a new transfer. Michimiya Yui. She became a family friend and gave me the idea to switch from pencil to pen. She came to Karasuno with me. And then I’d randomly write a lot, but I think it was around the fourth time I went through it? That’s when I really started connected with Koushi and Asahi outside of club. It’s like everytime I read it or someone else reads some of it, I get a better perspective on some things. I become better. It’s like a friendship magnet.”

“I guess that’s true” Kuroo muses. “But I like to think we became friends back at training camp, don’t you think?”

“You and Bokuto dragging me off in the middle of the night to practice receives with the comment that I should, I quote  _ put those madgnificent thighs to good use _ .” Kuroo snickers. He still remembers the look on Sawamura’s face when he first made that comment. It seemed to fly in and out of Bokuto’s head when Kuroo made that comment. 

Kuroo takes the suitcase for Sawamura and puts it by the door, putting his sports duffel on top. On the table are two heaping plates of perfectly heated leftovers, courtesy of Ushijima. 

“Think they’ll be back within the hour?” Sawamura asks, immediately digging into his meal. 

“Probably. They’d like to see you off. And if not, you can always poke your head into the bath.” Kuroo props his cheek on a hand, using the other to bring food to his mouth. “So what are you going to do way over in the countryside?” 

Sawamura looks thoughtful for a moment, quickly sucking the ends of noodles into his mouth, some of the sauce specking the corners of his mouth. 

“Our section of Miyagi isn’t really that big on celebrating” Sawamura says. “My first year it was basically vacation time, but in my second and third year, we actually had a coach at this time of the year, so we had intensive practice for most of the day. I’m thinking of joining in on practice with them, learn a little bit more about being a libero from Nishinoya.”

Kuroo brightens at this. He remembers Karasuno’s little libero. He was an energetic fellow. Maybe spending more time with him will get Sawamura to loosen up a bit. 

“Aw- shorty is going to spend more time with another shorty.” Kuroo coos, quickly lifting his legs up so that Sawamura’s kick would only meet air. 

“I’m not that short” Sawamura replies petulantly “My height is above average for the Japanese man.”

“ _ But” _ Kuroo says, pointing a long finger “not above average for the average Japanese volleyball player.” He waits for what Sawamura is going to do or say. His patience is awarded with an eye-roll. 

“Just for that, I’m going to tell Tsukishima about all the embarrassing things you’ve done. Akiteru talks to me- he’s told me about the things you’ve done in calc.” Kuroo withers. 

“ _ No _ .”

The grin on Sawamura’s face increases, his eyes glimmering. 

“And then there’s also your nerd spasms in chemistry. You’re the only one of us who the professor actually likes.”

“That’s because I’m majoring in it and I know what I’m talking about!” Kuroo protests. “And it’s either that or she keeps on picking on Bo. And plus: you can’t tell Tsuki. It needs to be a surprise, remember?”

“I know” Sawamura replies, flashing his teeth. “I was just messing around with you.” 

Kuroo gasps and places a hand over his heart. 

“And you call  _ me  _ the provocation master. My, my, Sawamura. It seems as if the  _ kouhai  _ has become the  _ senpai _ .” Sawamura laughs. Deep, warm, straight from the stomach. 

“That doesn’t even make  _ sense  _ you bakeneko.”

“I guess I am that mythical.”

Five minutes before Sawamura’s taxi comes to take him to the station, the others return from their bath. They say bye to Sawamura and Ushijima gives him his promised two bento boxes, as well as a bag of pastries he and Bokuto had made together during a few hours of boredom sometime that week. 

“Remember to give my sons the presents!” Bokuto exclaims. 

“You guys are like parents seeing their only son off to college” Oikawa harrumphs. “I’ll see you soon, Dai-chan.” 

Sawamura turns around and mock salutes to the four of them. 

“I’ll enjoy my time of peace and quiet.” Sawamura grins. 

“Just you wait” Kuroo teases. “You’ll be back within the day. Because of my amazing personality and Ushijima’s food.”

“What personality.” Ushijima deadpans with a hidden smile as Sawamura steps into the elevator. 

* * *

Just over an hour after Daichi got in a taxi and went to the train station for the first leg of his journey, a lot of things happen as life continues on with the temporary absence of one of the household’s members and the soon-to-be absence of a second member of the household. 

Ushijima has put Oikawa’s bento in the fridge and starts the jog to the bus, which will take him to the area of Tokyo where the restaurant he agreed to meet Reon and Eita is located. 

Kuroo leaves for the metro, going to his best friend Kenma’s house for a sleepover which his parents had insisted upon. 

Daichi had texted them that he arrived at the station, but the train was delayed fifteen minutes because of a security hold-up at the previous stop. 

Bokuto is sitting on the shorter couch, body sprawled across it, head hanging upside down from the side and legs propped and bent at the knees over the back of the couch. Oikawa lazily flips through the channels half-heartedly, trying to pass the time before he himself has to leave in less than an hour. He’s really looking forward to seeing his parents, his sister, Takeru. He can’t wait to join in on Makki and Matsun’s shenanigans. He wants to hug Iwa-chan.

He stops at the news channel, not really listening to it. Instead, he listens to Bokuto talking on the phone with Akaashi. 

“Yeah! And remember during the three on three, that straight I did? It was awesome!. . .yeah yeah I know. WAIT! ‘KASHI! How about dinner? Just us two! Don’t your parents miss me?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. The two’s friendship really is something else. Well, not really. It reminds him of his own with Iwa-chan. He wasn’t surprised that Bokuto is mostly talking about volleyball. 

Bokuto’s also watching the TV, semi-effectively multi-tasking. From what he’s listened into, it seems as if Bokuto and Akaashi’s conversation is mostly one-sided. Perhaps that how it works. Or maybe their manager talks very quickly in private. 

The story on TV switches to a car accident that occurred in the past hour in a shopping district. According to witnesses, a mother and son had been walking on the edge of the sidewalk when a car suddenly swerved. The mother pushed the child out of the way, but she wasn’t able to do the same. She was hit by the car, which was going at 60 kilometers per hour. Death occurred closely upon impact when she was flung against a store wall, crushing her skull. 

“Hey Akaashi?” Bokuto says, voice suddenly sounding strange. On the TV, there’s a short clip of an aerial view of the scene of the crash. The car had also hit a building head on, killing the driver as well. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” 

Oikawa’s eyes drift over to Bokuto. His brow furrows. The spiker is still sitting in his weird upside-down position but his golden eyes are frozen on the screen, unblinking, none of the muscles on his face moving. He’s not smiling anymore, expressing dull and neutral. 

“Kou-chan?” Oikawa asks as the reporter goes into detail about what authorities have deduced about the incident. “Did you just realize you forgot a birthday or something?” He tries to tease. Bokuto’s eyes don’t move. 

“Turn off the TV” his voice finally comes out. “ _ Please turn it off _ .” His legs fall from the back of the couch and he’s sitting up again, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees and fingers buried in gelled locks of hair. Oikawa quickly turns the TV off, hesitating for a moment.  _ What’s going on _ ? Has Bokuto suddenly gone into an emo-mode?

He sits down next to Bokuto, biting his lower lip. Bokuto’s breathing is growing faster and harder. He reaches and puts two fingers against the side of his neck. His pulse is fast, racing. 

“Hey, calm down” Oikawa says, wrapping an arm around Bokuto, rubbing circles into his back. He’s shaking. Trembling. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

Bokuto shakes his head. 

“I can’t I can’t I can’t” He quickly rushes. “I can’t believe it. Why didn’t dad tell me? Why didn’t my sisters tell me? Why did they just let me forget?”

“Do you want me to call Akaashi?” Oikawa tries but that just turns out to be a bad idea. 

“ _ NO! _ ” Bokuto nearly screams and he curls up even more, knuckles turning white. Oikawa’s really becoming scared now. He doesn’t know  _ what  _ this is. This is something completely new, entirely different than anything he’s seen before. And it’s just the two of them. Kuroo is over an hour away on foot, a ten minute walk to the metro, a fifteen minute ride, and then an unknown amount of time to get to the Kenma household. Ushiwaka is even farther, in a different part of the prefecture. Daichi’s train is going to arrive any minute now. 

Oikawa wraps another arm around Bokuto, reaching up to take his hands in his to stop them from ripping hairs out of his head. 

Bokuto shudders and breaks in his hold, burying his face in the crook of his neck, tears quickly soaking into his shirt, shoulders trembling and breaths coming in ragged gasps. After ten minutes, he isn’t close to coming down. Oikawa himself has a few tears slipping out because he’s never seen Bokuto cry in  _ any  _ of his meltdowns. He tries to remember what happened. 

Watching TV. Suddenly said bye to Akaashi. Told him to turn off the TV-

Oikawa is an idiot.

“Koutarou, hey hey hey” Oikawa softly says, hiding the trembling in his own voice. “Have you ever been in a car accident? Your safe now, by the way. You’re in the apartment with me and we also live with Daichi and Tetsurou and Wakatoshi. We all care for you, even though it’s only me here at the moment.” Bokuto shakes his head, hands gripping the front of Oikawa’s shirt. Oikawa bites his lower lip. “Koutarou.”

“I-I-I didn’t get in an an ac-accident” the boy stutters through dry sobs. His tears tears no longer come out. “I killed my mom. I killed my mom, Oikawa. I was only ten and I killed my mom.”

Oikawa’s blood freezes and his heart skips a beat. 

“Okay, alright” he says because there is  _ no way  _ that is true. “What should I do?”

“Get away from me.” Bokuto whispers. Oikawa tenses. 

“What?”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Bokuto screams, voice muffled by Oikawa’s shoulder. He tries to pull away but Oikawa just holds him tighter. Bokuto’s hands dig into his shoulder, his sides, trying to pry his hands off, but he refuses. Scrabbling for purchase.

They fall off the couch and Oikawa has the advantage with his longer limbs that can hold onto Bokuto more securely. The roll around for a little, knocking into the coffee table, back into the couch. His bad knee hits the table leg, pain momentarily flaring, but it’s nothing compared to whatever is going on in Bokuto’s mind. 

“I won’t” Oikawa stubbornly says. It only takes those two words. 

Bokuto goes limp. He stops fighting and his hands fall from where they were nearly clawing into the back of Oikawa’s t-shirt. Oikawa waits a few seconds and then quickly rolls off and gets on his knees, trying to get the oxygen back in his lungs. Bokuto continues to lay there, eyes closed, the area around his eyes red, cheeks red and shining with dried tears, breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Bokuto?  _ Bokuto _ . Koutarou. Kou-chan. Bo-chan. Bro.” Oikawa says but Bokuto doesn’t respond to any of the words or Oikawa lightly shaking him. Oikawa doesn’t hesitate to first somehow drag Bokuto onto the longer couch. Then he pulls his phone out and text Iwaizumi that he’s going to be late, that something came up. Then he goes to his contacts and presses  _ call _ . 

* * *

Daichi waits in the quickly moving line. His phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He pushes his duffel out of the way and reaches into his pocket. Flashing on the screen is Oikawa’s face. He rolls his eyes with a deep exhale. What does he want to bother him about now?

“He-” he barely gets out before Oikawa cuts him off. 

“You need to get back here.  _ Now _ .”

Daichi furrows his brow in confusion. 

“What?”

“Something happened to Bokuto. It was like a panic attack or something but I think he remembered something he wasn’t supposed to ever remember. But then he suddenly passed out and, gods. Daichi, it was  _ horrible  _ and I was so scared” his voice breaks. “I’m sorry, you were about to leave, but Ushiwaka and Kuroo are too far away and Bokuto refused to contact Akaashi when I asked him when it sta-”

“I’m going back to the taxi now” Daichi says, turning on his heel and dodging someone. “Tell me everything that happened and everything you think about it.” He swallows down the worry that bubbles in his throat. Suga will be angry when he doesn’t see Daichi get off the train, but he doesn’t have the time to call his best friend. He has more pressing matters at hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I just did that. So, there's actually a big chunk of foreshadowing for what happened to Bokuto. It was in Chapter 10:
> 
> _“So you’re a genius, you’re loaded because your family spoils you, you were a top five ace, anything else you want to pop on us?” Oikawa teases._
> 
> _The teen hums and then his eyes brighten. “Oh, right! I did ballet before my mom died when I turned ten and I started playing volleyball!” Daichi lets out a cough to hide the strangled noise Kuroo makes._
> 
> _“Oh, sorry” Oikawa says. “I, your mom, I uh” Bokuto waves him off._
> 
> _“Hey hey, no worries! I don’t really remember a lot about her or how she died. I still practice ballet once in a while because it keeps my joints and muscles nice and strong.” He ends with putting his hands on his hips, beaming proudly._
> 
> So, the thing about traumatic experiences is that the brain can repress the memory as a sort of self-protection thing. But, under certain circumstances, randomly, or because of a trigger after a series of events, the memory can rise up again. The next chapter will have more stuff on the accident. You could consider this the start of the Bokuto Arc if you want to separate the fic like that.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the apartment  
> Bokuto, Oikawa, and Daichi  
> A decision is made

“ _ Where is he? _ ” Is the first thing Daichi says upon bursting into the apartment, door slamming against the wall, hair mussed from running, sneakers that were washed the day before now sporting new scuff marks. He tosses his duffle and suitcase to the side, knocking into Oikawa’s, both of their suitcases tumbling onto the hardwood. 

Even though his voice is even and one could even say stern, it’s impossible to ignore the concern that seeps into the air around him. His eyes are wide and alert, quickly searching for his friend. 

“He’s in his room” Oikawa sighs from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table. He’s lightly drumming his fingers on the tabletop, hair slightly mussed. Daichi frowns. 

“When?”

“About two minutes ago” Oikawa sighs. “He got up. Didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at me. I followed him and all he did was sit on his bed. He didn’t even lay down. I left the door open and they aren’t exactly the quietest things. Neither is Bokuto, but” Oikawa lets out a deep sigh and rubs his face “I don’t know anymore. I’ll hear if he does anything.”

Just in case, Daichi quickly moves past Oikawa, padding down the hallway, past the bathroom and study room, to Kuroo and Bokuto’s shared room. His heart starts to beat just a bit faster. The door is indeed open and poking his head in affirms what Oikawa had said. 

It was creepy, to say the least. Daichi didn’t try to be quiet, even knocking twice on the doorframe. Bokuto doesn’t look up. His hair was half down, almost looking like a mockery of a certain middle blocker roommate’s hair. His hands are resting on his knees, fingers clutching the join, back hunched over, body tense; resembling a school boy sitting in an office chair after being called up to see the principal. 

Quietly, Daichi leaves the room and returns to the front. Oikawa has moved out of the chair, instead rapidly typing on his phone. 

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Kuroo and Ushijima” Oikawa says. “I told them what happened but to come back later so they don’t overwhelm Bokuto. They’ll be back after dinner.” He hesitates. “I also told Iwa-chan that my visit has been pushed back.”

Daichi nods understandably. He missed his train and even if Oikawa left for the station now, he would still be late. 

“Have you” Oikawa pauses. He looks away from Daichi, gaze focusing on the blank television screen. “This isn’t just a simple car crash, I think. I don’t know nothing about trauma but what had happened…”

“I get what you’re thinking, Oikawa. I agree.” He trusts Oikawa’s intuition- and his own. They stand in silence for a few minutes- the time passes too slowly. No noise comes from down the hallway. Daichi feels the weight of his phone, on silent, in his pocket. He considers texting Koushi and his mom that he’ll be late, that maybe he won’t even come home for Golden Week. It’s only been a few weeks but his priorities have already been rearranged. He had dreaded rooming with Bokuto and Kuroo, two two of them having been chaotic enough at training camp. And then Oikawa had been thrown into the mix. Ushijima was the most normal person out of them but back then, there had been tension between him and Oikawa. 

But then a lot of things happened. There was the dinner, for one. Daichi wonders how different his relationship with his roommates would of been had that night not happened. He hated that night- he thinks about it too often to be good for him- but so much good came out of that. 

He stops himself from thinking too much about what could of changed, what could of been, what couldn’t of been (no extraterrestrial class- nope, Oikawa still would of dragged them into it). He thinks back to the morning that had followed. Oikawa had insisted that he call him Tooru-chan, but he said he’d stick to Tooru. He thinks he only called Oikawa by his given name maybe… twice. And that was only because of the conversation they had about it. 

“His mom was killed in a car accident” Oikawa says at long last, stopping his pacing. “On the news, the mother had shoved her child out of the way so that he wouldn’t die- she sacrificed herself. Bokuto was obviously there. I think his mom did the same for him. But that wouldn’t amount to this much trauma. He was ten, right?”

“Ten.”

“Ten year old Koutarou” Oikawa says, tapping his chin, sounding like a detective from the TV shows and movies. “Witnesses his mother get hit by a car instead of him. Traumatizing, sure. But not this much.”

Something clicks in Daichi’s head. “And he told us that he barely remembers anything about his mother- I read a bit about trauma for class. His mind should of only blocked out that event. Even with the grief, he shouldn’t of forgotten all about his mom.” He hadn’t forgotten about his dad when he left, and he had been seven. “And Bokuto’s very smart- a good memory too.”

“It doesn’t  _ match _ ” Oikawa says. “So his mom survived the crash.”

“But she’s dead.”

“So she died  _ after  _ the accident. And something happened between her and Bo-chan that was bad enough to forgot almost all about her and become like  _ this  _ when he remembered.”

“He could be in shock because of remembering.” Daichi bites his lower lip. “A panic attack, and then he passes out, and wakes up in shock.”

Oikawa lets out a humorless laugh, folding an arm over his chest and cupping his jaw with his other hand. He looks restless. “Are you sure you aren’t majoring in psychology?”

“I’m sure.”

“So what should we do? I don’t think my amazing presence will be enough this time.”

“I’m going to try to get him to talk at least. My bentos are stacked in my duffle. Get one of them and put the food in a bowl and heat it up in the microwave. After you’re done, join me in his room. If I can get Bokuto to at least walk, we can try and get some food into him.”

“Food solves all problems” Oikawa sagely repeats. He leaves it at that, turning his back to Daichi and the hallway to head towards the duffle bag on the ground. 

Daichi walks down the hallway, not bothering to knock before he enters. Bokuto doesn’t look up. 

“Bo- Koutarou” Daichi says, going down the given name path rather than family name to try and get a reaction out of him. Gold eyes flick up for less than a second before continuing to gaze at the floor. He remains at the entryway to the room unmoving for a few awkward seconds before making up his mind and joining Bokuto on the bed. The mattress is soft, sinking down where Daichi lowers himself. 

“Why are you here?” 

“So you can talk” Daichi tries with a grim smile. “I decided to stay behind a little bit longer.” Then he hesitates. “Did you not notice me when I came in the first time?” Bokuto doesn’t nod or shake his head. 

“You missed seeing your family for me” Bokuto states. The sentence hangs in the air. Daichi shifts in his spot and wraps his arms around Bokuto. The spiker melts into his hold, head resting into his shoulder. 

“You’re family too” Daichi says. “And if not, were barely even a month out of a lot of living together. You can trust us.” Bokuto releases a rattling breath and slightly shaking arms wrap themselves around Daichi’s back. 

Oikawa peeks his head in from the doorway, holding a plate of food. He puts it on the dresser, lightly making his way across the room to take his place on Bokuto’s other side. Two more arms join the hug. 

“I hate it, I hate it  _ so much _ ” Bokuto sobs into Daichi’s shoulder, fingers clutching the back of his shirt. Oikawa and Daichi meet each other’s eyes, a silent conversation running between them in the span of only a few seconds. 

“What do you hate?” Daichi asks. Bokuto grip tightens.

“M-my mom, she said it was because of me that she did it.”

“Did what?”

“She killed herself.” And like that, the words tumble from Bokuto’s mouth, faster than his tears. Like a prisoner giving his confession- once one thing is out, there’s nothing left to lose so the rest just follows. 

“She-she dance ballet and she was so pretty, y’know, a-and so good. And then I went and went on the street and she got hit just so that I w-wouldnt’. She was in a coma for a little and she was all fine when she woke but she couldn’t, she couldn’t walk anymore. And it was because of me. She was fine. She was my mum, even if she was a bit meaner near the end. Sh-she was yellin’ at me and got angry and said everythin’ she was going to do was my fault, a-a-and I even set up the wheelchair for her and she made me take her to the stairs and then pulled herself over the rail and” his voice breaks. “I watched her fall. How could I forget that? What sort of son am I for forgetting how my mom  _ died _ ?”

“Hey” Oikawa snuggles closer to Bokuto, smoothening back his hair. Puffy gold eyes look at him from over Daichi’s shoulder. “That was a long time ago. You can’t change the past- I’d know” his hand brushes over his bad knee. One of Bokuto’s hands let go of Daichi’s shirt to weakly reach out for Oikawa. The setter quickly takes it, squeezing it, curling their fingers together.

Oikawa expertly masks the shock from showing on his face and appearing in his words. He feels sick. He’d been right about Bokuto’s mother surviving the crash, and what happened afterwards being bad enough to make his brain shut off so many memories. His mom had killed herself, with ten year old Bokuto watching. And then she told him it was his fault that she was ending her life, finding an object to blame instead of her own cowardice and weakness to try and recover.

And Bokuto’s family, his sisters and dad, never told him. Understandable, but it still doesn’t make it right. It’s no wonder, now that he thinks about it, that his family seems to spoil him so much.

“Tell us how you feel” Oikawa says after Bokuto gets some more tears out. 

“I-I-I don’t  _ know _ .”

“What are you thinking about then?”

Bokuto doesn’t answer immediately. His pressure he’s putting on Oikawa’s hand is painful but he can bear it. In the back of his mind, he wonders how much of Daichi’s shirt is stained with tears. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” Bokuto’s voice is weak and rough, and Oikawa can feel some of his heart crumble at the despair and wonder in his voice. 

“One thing doesn’t change what we think of you” Daichi says. 

“Friendship is the hardest thing in the world to explain” Oikawa quotes in accented english. “Spike a ball to my face if I’m wrong, Kou-chan.”

“How do you not hate me? I-”

“Killed your mom? You didn’t. You’ve only had these memories for an hour- it’ll get better with time. And then you’ll understand that it’s not your fault.” 

“So you don’t think I should of died instead of here?” 

The silence rings. Shivers crall up their spines. Bokuto averts his gaze and Daichi had to try not to pull away so that he could see Bokuto’s face. 

“Why would you say that?” Oikawa breathes. 

“I should of died. She just decided to save me and she paid for-” 

“Stop it.” Daichi says, no-  _ commands _ . “Absolutely not, you shouldn’t of died.”

“But-”

“No.” Both Oikawa and Daichi say at the same time. Daichi rests his head on Bokuto’s shoulder, blinking back the moistness that has gathered. “You don’t, you never, need to die” Daichi chokes out. “For all of us, don’t think like that. Don’t  _ ever  _ think like that. Tell us if you do.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen. Then he squeezes them shut, a tear leaking form his. He tries to take a deep breath. 

“... I’ll try.” Bokuto says, voice wavering. “You guys… you guys are good bros.”

“Can you let go of my hand for a moment?” Oikawa asks. “You’re food’s getting cold.” 

* * *

Bokuto isn’t left alone for the rest of the day. Oikawa and Daichi stay with him, only leaving for the bathroom or water, and Oikawa once to calle Kuroo and Ushijima and fill them in on what happened. He was able to convince Kuroo not to leave early so that he doesn’t overwhelm Bokuto and has some time to gather and calm his thoughts and emotions. 

They pass the time working on long-term assignments together and watching volleyball clips when they want a break. Bokuto doesn’t talk much, remaining quiet and doing his work with an intensity only a few levels less intense than what he shows on the court. He listens intently to whatever Daichi or Oikawa talk about, trying to find something to distract himself from his own mind. 

“That one’s cool” Bokuto says, looking at the laptop screen playing a clip of Italy’s libero doing a flying kick to get the ball back onto the court before crashing into the foam barricade. Daichi’s eyes shine at the move. Although he’ll miss spiking the ball over the net, solely playing defense will allow him to hound after the ball, to protect it, no matter where on the court it is. He understands why Nishinoya always insists it’s the coolest position- he gets an excuse to learn fancy moves like that. 

He was going to ask Nishinoya to teach him “rolling thunder”. He ignores the weight of his phone again. If he’d gotten on the train, if Bokuto’s memories had been repressed, he’d probably be in his house’s garage. 

Bokuto goes to find another clip, tilting his head a bit to the left so his hair shifts and creates a better opening to see through. 

Gathering his courage, Daichi pulls his phone out. The only noise comes from the air from the vent making the room even colder than it already is, Oikawa’s pencil scribbling across paper as he gets another idea of what he wants on his essay draft, and the clicking and tapping of the laptop. 

His phone powers on and Daichi winces internally at the screen. There are two hundred texts, about fifty of them from group chats, the rest private messages, and innumerable missed calls. A new text pops up, this one from his mom. There’s only one sentence:

**Call me if you don’t want me marching to Tokyo.**

“Excuse me for a minute” Daichi says, getting up. Bokuto doesn’t say a word, looking up to watch Daichi get up and leave. He hears the teen’s breath pick up but Oikawa reaches over and pats Bokuto’s head and the boy relaxes again, gaze turning back to the laptop. 

Daichi goes to Ushijima’s room which is the furthest from the living room. His room is neat, bed made, with a purple quilt covering the entirety of the bed, pillows included. His and Kuroo’s suitcases are right next to the door to a small closet. On the dresser are a line of potted plants with a lamp turned on and shining artificial sunlight on them. Daichi sits at the edge of the bed, ignoring the other people in his list of contacts, tapping on his mom’s. He swallows when it’s almost immediately picked up.

Both of them are silent. Daichi wants his mom to talk first but she’s always been good at the waiting game. If she doesn’t want to talk first, she won’t. 

“Hi mo-” he awkwardly starts. 

“ _ Sawamura Daichi”  _ right off the bat. She’s yelling. Daichi holds the phone away from his face, wincing. His ear is ringing. “I don’t care  _ what  _ you’re excuse is- you were supposed to be home  _ two hours ago _ .”

“I’m sorry. You know I would never of-”

“But you did” she cuts hims off again. “I want you here before midnight. I don’t care if you missed the train to go to a funeral or get married. Buy a ticket at get here. Even your friends have been worried sick- poor Koushi was waiting at the station for an hour before checking with an employee and finding out your ticket was never checked in!” 

Another wince. He made his best friend wait, and he didn’t even text him an explanation or that he’d be late. All he’d been feeling was a sort of anxiety until he sat down on the bed with Bokuto, thinking about what was wrong with his friend. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll be there by midnight. But mo-” The call ends. Daichi sighs and slumps, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He can understand from where his mom is talking from but she didn’t even let him explain. His hand curls tightly over his phone. He feels angry. Angry at his  _ mom _ , something he hasn’t felt since his first year of middle school. All she had wanted, at that moment, was for him to go back to Miyagi. It’d only been a month, and sure he didn’t tell anyone that he was going to be late. That he hadn’t boarded the train. That their hopes had gotten high to see him but when all the cars emptied out, he still hadn’t emerged. He barely feels any guilt because he had a reason to stay.

He would of felt worst if he boarded it. If Oikawa had been too late with calling. 

Because, right now, he’s dealing with a friend whose energetic and joyful and carefree in nature. But all of that is turned around. He’s trying to recover from trauma that just came back without a warning, he’s potentially suicidal, and he gets scared when either he or Oikawa get up. That he was going through the grief (again) of losing a mother and knowing that she died hating him for something he couldn’t control. And Daichi, he doesn’t just have one home now. The realization doesn’t shock him. 

His phone vibrates and Daichi looks at the screen with brief annoyance. 

**Kuroo: I’m in the elevator**

Daichi looks at the time. Six thirty. Kuroo was supposed to be back after he had diner. Daichi has to leave before eight if he wants to survive Golden Week. He had the strangest feeling that Oikawa might be in the same situation as him. And then an idea clicks in his head. 

Pocketing his phone after looking at the train schedule (he’ll look and reply to his texts in the train) he pads to the living room. The knob of the front door twists and Kuroo enters, tossing his overnight bag to join the tipped-over suitcases, softly nudging the door close behind him. Kuroo seeks out Bokuto and the spiker looks so relieved upon seeing Kuroo and Ushijima. 

“Bro” Kuroo says, sliding onto the ground and hugging Bokuto. “You’re hair’s down, you punk.” Bokuto doesn’t say anything, moving his head from resting on Oikawa’s shoulder to resting on Kuroo’s shoulder. The middle blocker holds Bokuto’s hand. On the laptop, a compilation of professional libero plays flash across the screen on mute. In Bokuto’s other hand is his phone, thumb slowly moving across the screen. “Texting Akaashi?”

“Yeah” Bokuto says. 

“Hey” Daichi says, letting his presence be known. He shifts on his feet. “My mom says I have to be in Miyagi by midnight.” He says reluctantly. There’s still a gap he has to fill, so he tries to with a measly “No exception.”

Something flashes across Oikawa’s face. 

“She wouldn’t listen?”

Shake.

Bokuto looks up at Daichi, brow furrowing. 

“You’re leaving?” He quietly asks. 

“Not yet” Daichi corrects. “But I’ll have to leave at eight. And Bokuto, I know you need a distraction, so would you like to come to Miyagi with me? You can also give Hinata and Tsukishima their gifts yourself that way.” Bokuto blinks at him. Kuroo squeezes his hand. Daichi rubs the back of his neck. Bokuto looks down at his phone. Oikawa gently reaches over and closes the laptop. 

“Can” he hesitates “Can Keiji come?” 

With those four words, the room relaxes. Even Kuroo looks happy, even though that means Bokuto would be gone for almost two weeks. 

“I can bring him with me” Oikawa offers. “I’d rather see an angry Iwa-chan after getting sleep instead of seeing Iwa-chan right before midnight _ without  _ an sleep, thank you very much.”

“I’m sorry about that” Bokuto says, pulling his legs close to his chest. 

“It’s not your fault” Oikawa waves him off. He bites back the  _ I’ll need all night to answer my texts anyway.  _ “Do we have a game plan now?”

“Yeah yeah- me and Ushijima will be fine. Splendid with just the two of us here. Imagine all the food I’ll get to eat.”

“When’s Wakatoshi coming back?” Bokuto asks, shifting to that he’s pressed against Kuroo’s side. “I like his hugs… no offense bro.”

“None taken. I’ve never hugged him but he seems like a big teddy bear.” 

Oikawa holds back a giggle. “Dai-chan gives the best hugs. You can cuddle him like a teddy bear too.” A mortified look crosses the libero’s face. 

“Sawamura~” Kuroo turns his head and waggles his eyebrows at said teen. “Care to give dear Tetsu a h-”

“No.” Daichi deadpans. 

“Can I have a hug?” Bokuto asks, hope filling his voice. Daichi face softens. He doesn’t even need to answer, settling on Bokuto’s other side so that the teen is comfortably sandwiched. Bokuto finishes texting and the smile that brightens his face after being missing for hours is plain beautiful. 

“He said yes!” Bokuto breathes. 

“Of course he would- it’s Kei-kun.” Oikawa grins. Daichi wrinkles his nose. 

“Kei-kun… please don’t say that again. Ever. I don’t want a mental image of Akaashi and Tuskishima fused together.”

“Akashima.” Oikawa says back. Even Kuroo shudders. 

“As much as I want to make fun of my kouhai, no.” 

Oikawa relents. “Fine, fine, fine.”

Ushijima comes back half an hour before Bokuto and Daichi have to leave. Just like he had wanted before, Bokuto goes to Ushijima for a hug and the taller spiker only hesitates for a moment before hugging him back. 

Bokuto only packs one suitcase, quiet as he did so. He even would of forgot about his volleyball duffle had Daichi not picked it up. Oikawa gives them some packets of milkbread to snack on during the few hour ride. Bokuto falls asleep ten minutes into the train ride, head rolling against the window. Daichi watched the lights of the city become more and more distant. They have one spot where they have to switch trains, the second train taking them through the mountains and then to Sendai. The pains of trying to find the soonest train. 

Taking his phone out after looking at Bokuto fog the window with his breathing, hood pulled over his head and pinning down his hair to his forehead, Daichi finally decides that it’s time to answer all the texts he’s gotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, our boys will be in Miyagi


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR THIS NUMBER!  
> Comments: 127 Kudos: 215 Bookmarks: 29 Hits: 3983

At eleven twenty-three at night after a two hour train ride, almost missing their stop, and another one hour long ride, Bokuto and Daichi finally get off at the Sendai train station. 

The ride was nice. Bokuto made Daichi carry the conversation after he had woken up. Luckily, all of his texts had been answered. He started off with telling stories about Miyagi, Bokuto’s focus entirely on him, eyes only occasionally blinking and never moving away from his face. It had been unnerving at first but soon Daichi got used to it. 

After talking about the recent ridiculous texts he’d gotten from, surprisingly, all of Karasuno’s newly turned second-years, he had moved on to telling Bokuto about how libero training was going. 

Jin was a really nice senpai. Once during practice when the coaches had been too focused on the three-on-three matches, Jin and snuck Daichi across campus to the music department to mess around with the instruments. His violin was definitely rusty but it was fun playing around with the harp. 

Focusing on defense during his third and most of his second year had helped a lot. It was easy to get used to using both arms freely and individually rather than gathering them in front of him to receive the ball. It took a few days to get comfortable with moving around his left arm to get the ball rather than twist or jump to reach with his right. There was also lots of running.  _ So much running _ . Stamina was key for a libero because of how much they had to dodge across their half of the court. He might be able to keep up with Hinata or Kageyama at this point. Or Bokuto and Ushijima with their morning jogs. 

There are still some people milling about. Bokuto looks around, at the glass windows, at the tiled floor, at the words and stores that differ from those in Tokyo. Daichi leads the way, Bokuto keeping close with Daichi with an arm slung around his shoulders. Even when they switched trains Bokuto gripped Daichi’s hand the whole time. 

“We have to hurry” Daichi urges. “Tanaka’s big sister is picking us up. My mom’s still angry at me, Koushi doesn’t have a car, so she’ll drive us home. You’ll like her.” Bokuto wilts a little. 

“I’m sorry for making your mom angry at you.” Daichi waves him off. It had hurt at first, sure, but he knew what he had done was right. It was a mistake not texting her that he’d be late but that would of wasted time and he had needed every second. 

“It’s alright. It was worth it.”

The automated doors slide open giving them a view of the large parking lot, suitcases bumping on the yellow tactile surfaces. 

Bokuto looks up at the sky, hood slipping off his head. Daichi joins him. It’s slightly chilly. 

There aren’t any clouds in the sky and the moon is just a sliver of grey. The stars twinkle, bright and varying in size. The lights of an aeroplane passing in the corner of his vision, probably heading somewhere far like Taiwan or Hokkaido. 

“First time in the country?” Daichi teases, breathing in the fresh air. He had gotten used to the weird sort of heaviness in the Tokyo air, how it’d take a little longer to catch his breath, at least until he got used to life there. It’s felt like months since he’s been in Miyagi. 

“Yeah” Bokuto replies a faint smile on his face. “You can barely see the stars back home. I pop into Oikawa’s astronomy class when Akiteru-san lets us out early. I think I recognize some of these.” 

“Why are you skipping class?”

“I’m not!” Bokuto whines. “Teach lets me go.” Daichi pulls his phone out and hums cryptically. There’s a text from Saeko saying that she’s be at their area of the station any moment now. He rests his head on Bokuto’s shoulder, stifling a yawn. He was running on too little sleep and the entire day was so emotionally tiring. 

Suddenly Daichi is being pulled back. He yelps, Daichi pushes himself out of the half-daze he went into and he recognizes the white van going too fast that drives right past them before screeching to a halt a few meters down. Bokuto’s ees are blown wide and Daichi’s hip was clipped by a cylindrical bollard while being pulled away from the curbside. 

“Hey” Daichi quickly says, letting go of his suitcase which somehow hasn’t tipped over, covering the hand that grips him almost painfully with his other hand. “I’m fine, you’re fine, alright? I’ll tell her to drive slower.” The look on Bokuto’s face looks comical.

“That’s  _ her _ ?” He says. Daichi sheepishly nods. 

“Tanaka likes to remind her that when riding with her, safety is never guaranteed.” He watches Bokuto’s neck bob with a swallow before nodding, quivering hand raking his hair back only for it to fall back over his face. 

“YO DAICHI-KUN!” A gleeful voice exclaims. “Long time no see college boy! Is this the guest?”

“Yeah” Daichi shouts back. At the cheerful tone, Bokuto brightens, as if recognizing one of his own. Daichi remembers when he used to be worried about rooming with Kuroo and Bokuto, but once again, he learned not to judge a book by its cover. Sure, Bokuto is a lot like Hinata, their personalities so similar, but after Bokuto goes “BAM!” and keeps on boing “BAM!” he eventually calms down. And even though he loves volleyball and knows that’s what he wants to do with his life, his brain cells aren’t programmed only to focus on volleyball. 

So he isn’t worried about having Bokuto and Saeko in the same enclosed space of a van. 

Until it actually happens. 

Bokuto insists on sitting with him in the backseat while Saeko leads the conversation from the front. Of course, they are talking about siblings. Daichi himself has nothing against little siblings but he’s not that excited about talking about them. The day after his graduation, they had gone with his step-dad to stay their cousins house by the coast. He had been relieved that he would have some peace and quiet until he realized he had to leave for university. 

And the kept on talking

And talking

And talking

Once Bokuto had his fill of telling Saeko about his sisters as fast as humanly possible and Saeko finished talking about Tanaka, both of them turned to Daichi and made  _ him  _ talk. He managed a few sentences about his little siblings- he loves them, they like to bump volleyballs with him for fun once in a while, they’re studious. Bokuto made him talk about Hinata after, and that brought the passione into his voice.

A thing the two of them had been doing lately were videos. Hinata would have his adorable little sister record her brother to send to “Dadchi-nii” and Daichi would go over the video and give him advice and praise him. One would think he would get bored with the number of so similar spikes he’s seen, but no. It always makes him smile when he sees Hinata land and turn toward the camera, saying something along the lines of: “Did you see that Daich-san!? Did you!!? WHAT DID YOU THINK!?” Followed by Natsu’s small giggle and “Dadchi-nii”. Occasionally, Hinata would be “That’s write! Dad!” Patting Natsu’s head from outside of the camera’s frame of view before realizing the video was still rolling. Daichi feels bad all of a sudden, remembering that he’s in Miyagi. Bokuto got something for Hinata’s birthday and Tsukishima. Daichi hasn’t brought anything back except for the milkbread Oikawa had thrown into his bag and remained uneaten. 

“Hey, Daichi. You alright?” Daichi blinks and looks at Bokuto blearily. 

“Wha’?”

“HAH!” Saeko laughs. “You were muttering about a video or something. We’re on your street.”

Bewildered, Daichi quickly turns to look out the window, eyes widening when he recognizes the houses. 

“How fast are you driving?”

“On the limit you grandpa” Saeko smirks at the mirror. “We think you fell asleep and sleep-talked the rest of the conversation.” Daichi blushes. “Aw come on, it was cute! Wasn’t it Koutarou-kun?”

“It was adorable” Bokuto says. “Sometimes Akaashi would also sleep talk at training camp.”

Saeko then gasps, slamming on the breaks and turning to Bokuto. 

“I  _ thought  _ I recognized you!” She exclaims, pointing at him. “You’re that ace, right? Owl guy. Uhhh” she snaps her fingers, eyes narrowing, trying to remember. “BOKUTO! Yes! Oh my god, I can’t believe it. Ryuu has made me watch so many videos so I could judge him and here I am standing in front of one of his idols. And I even saw you at that training camp! Could” 

Bokuto doesn’t try to hide his grin. Daichi’s just happy that he’s happy for the moment. Although he really wants to sleep. . .and he still needs to face his mom. 

There’s more Saeko and Bokuto talking before she starts the car again. Daichi thinks he could walked home with the time it took. 

Saeko gets the car to the Sawamura household. He has to try and not fall asleep. She stops the car on the curb. The lights are on inside. 

“Do you boys need any help with your bags?” Saeko asks. Daichi politely shakes his head while tugging his suitcase out once the elder girl opened the back of the van. Bokuto is looking at the stars again. 

After a quick but cordial farewell and promise to meet up again. Bokuto has his hand on Daichi’s back, fingers curling over the top of his shoulder, walking just a bit ahead of him as if his mother would be dangerous. At this point, Daichi will take anything to the face as long as he gets to sleep. The choice of wearing jeans to bed will be tomorrow Daichi’s problem. 

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, Daichi puts the slightly dusty thing in the keyhole, turning it. The deadlock isn’t slid in place so the door easily opens. He just manages to enter before Bokuto, kicking his shoes off to the side. He’ll get the house slippers out tomorrow. 

“Mamma” Daichi happily chirps, rubbing at his eyes before looking at her again. Brown eyes identical to his own except with a more narrow shape meet his. There’s happiness and anger and exhaustion on her face. 

“Daichi” she starts with mild irritation in her voice but in the end, she’s a mother. She gets up from where she was sitting on the armchair, hugging her son. “I’m so sorry I yelled at you honey, I never let you explain.”

“It’s alright mom” he replies. He pulls away and that’s when her gaze snaps to Bokuto. 

“Oh!” She sounds surprised. “You brought a friend?” Bokuto nervously shuffles on his feet before bowing lowly. 

“Bokuto Koutarou, Sawamura-sama” he introduces himself. “I ask for your forgiveness for uh intruding in your house.” Daichi’s mom tutts. 

“No need to bow” she says “And call me okaa-san.”

“I texted you that I was bringing one of my roommates” Daichi points out. “Didn’t you check your phone?”

“I’m sorry” she says. “Here, let’s talk tomorrow. You two boys must be exhausted.”

“But we made it before midnight” Daichi tries to joke but the yawn at the end ruins it. His mom’s face flashes into guilt. 

“Have you two had any dinner yet? I have leftovers.”

“We’ll be fine” Daichi says. “I just want to sleep” he admits. Him refusing food is a testament to how much he just wants to  _ sleep _ . 

“Alright” she says. “Koutarou, was it? I’ll lead you to the guest room. Daichi, be a dear and take his suitcase for him.” Daichi beats Bokuto to his suitcase handle, following after as his mom leads Bokuto to the often used guest room. It’s a simple thing, the twin bed that used to be there having been sold a few years ago to buy nice futons because the Sawamuras rarely have only one person sleeping over at a time. 

“You’ll have to tell me all about yourself tomorrow!” Daichi’s mom insists as she spreads the futon, refusing both her son and Bokuto’s offers of aid. “Daichi barely tells me anything over the phone and you seem like such a charming boy!” Daichi leads himself to his room after saying good night to his mom and Bokuto, somehow lugging his suitcase up the stairs. 

True to his earlier thoughts, he falls asleep in his jeans, barely remembering to burrow under the covers and turn off the hallway light. 

  
  
  
  


Probably an hour later, he’s partially woken up by something pushing him closer to the wall. He thinks he lets out a groan. 

“Sorry” Bokuto’s shaky loud whisper comes. Daichi scootches over, trying not to pass out again. 

“Why’re you ‘ere?”

“I was scared.” Bokuto slides into bed and Daichi blindly swings an arm to wrap an arm around Bokuto’s shoulder and drag him over so that his head is on Daichi’s shoulder. This is what he’d to do to his siblings when they came to him after getting a nightmare. 

“S’fe” he grumbles, falling asleep again. 

  
  
  


A good night’s sleep later, Daichi wakes up to a sun filled room and only himself in his bed. He thinks he remembers Bokuto weaseling himself into his bed, but then he looks down and sees Bokuto fiddling with a puzzle cube. 

“Good morning!” Bokuto exclaims. He looks freshened up, changed out of the clothes he wore yesterday; white-grey and black hair messy. Suddenly there’s a phone shoved in his face. “You’re mom gave me her number and she took this picture of us! You look so relaxed!” Daichi looks at the photo and he wonders what’s up with the people he knows and taking photos of moments that should be private. But it confirms that Bokuto was with him last night. 

Daichi grabs his own phone from the bedside table, turning it on. There’s a single text from Koushi:

**[28_04_2014.png] You look so gay** . **Also, I’m picking you up for lunch. Be awake**

He doesn’t need to unlock his phone to see what the picture is to know what his best friend is referring to. 

* * *

  
  


Ushijima appreciates simplicity and peace, but after weeks of getting used to living with four other people of which there is almost always one of them awake at the same time as him, the quiet is a strange thing. These are the sort of thoughts he contemplates while standing in front of a stove at nine in the morning while wearing his night clothes. 

“You going to see your friends today?” Is the first thing Kuroo asks him that morning, walking into the kitchen while scratching his stomach to survey what drinks their fridge is stocked with. Ushijma has turned the TV onto the news, the volume low, so at least there’s some sort of noise besides the faint hum of the AC when it’s on. 

Sliding the spatula under the half-cooked item in front of him, with a quick flick of the wrist, it turn onto the other side, pan sizzling with new raw batter to cook. His eyes narrow at the tear that has formed in the center. Imperfect. Inadequate. 

“I invited them for lunch, if that is fine with you.” Ushijima says He knows it’ll be fine with Kuroo who could be considered a creature of social interactions, such as Satori. Kuroo’s had his friend Yaku come over once to celebrate him dropping out of college after getting an invitation to join a Russian volleyball team. It was sadly tearful at first but then it became fake tearful with Yaku and Daichi getting along splendidly over the shared topic of making fun of Kuroo. “They haven’t tried French cuisine before, so I’ll be preparing that for them.” Kuroo puts the milk back in the fridge, nursing the delicious chocolate liquid held in his hand, once of the few store bought drinks they still have. The juice has already been replaced by a large jug of orange juice Ushijima had made on a whim out of sher boredom afterBokuto had bought a few bags of oranges that were fifty percent off. 

“So what are you making now?”

“Crêpes” Ushijima says. “I am not always successful with creating the right” he hunts for the word “thickness.” Kuroo lets out a snort for some reason. “Would you like to try some? I would suggest putting some chocolate on them.”

“Oh yes please” Kuroo groans, dodging around the spiker. He whistles at the stack, poking it from the top. “That’s a lot of  _ crêpes _ .” Ushijima turns to hide his smile. Unlike pronouncing the word properly, like how Ushijima’s professor had drilled into everyone’s heads, Kuroo’s pronunciation didn’t even sound vaguely French. 

“Kurēpu” Ushijima says under his breath, mimicking the middle blocker’s pronunciation. Kuroo doesn’t hear him, retrieving the chocolate spread from of one of the cabinets and a butter knife from a drawer. 

“How do I put it on?” Kuroo asks. “Is there a fancy French way to do this?” Ushijima turns the heat down to the lowest setting and flips the crêpe over, thankfully not tearing. He takes the knife from Kuroo’s hand, dipping it into the glass jar. 

“Like this” Ushijma says. He shows Kuroo how to thinly spread the chocolate in a way that won’t tear the delicate material underneath, and then how to fold it into what his professor nicknamed “pizza style”, pressing down at certain points to let the sauce spread. Kuroo picks it up, examining from every angle before taking a slow bite out of it, pulling his lips back so only his teeth touches the crêpe before he starts chewing normally. “Is it good?”

“Oh gods, yes” Kuroo says with a forced sigh, swaying on his feet. Is there something wrong with the batter perhaps? Does Kuroo have an allergy which he just discovered? 

“Are you okay?” Kuroo lets out a confused  _ huh _ ?

“What?”

“You’re swaying.”

“Oh, no no no- I’m a hundred percent okay” Kuroo says, making the  _ okay  _ sign with his fingers. “I’m just exaggerating what I feel- It’s awesome, this kurēpu. It deserves all the sways.”

“Crêpe.” Ushijima corrects.

“That’s what I said! Ku-rē-pu.” He finishes the rest of the crêpe while Ushijima moves the crêpe onto another plate to make a new stack. He takes the squeeze bottle and presses down on it to release the battle in a spiral, twisting the pan so the batter moves and forms a thin circle before it starts to cool. 

“Can you do that same to the rest of them?”

The next half hour is spent with Ushijima trying to make perfect crêpes while Kuroo would take them and cover them with chocolate before folding them, fingers and the corner of his mouth quickly coating with chocolate. 

“When did you wake up anyway to make this much?” Kuroo asks, taking a break to wash the chocolate from his mouth and hands. “I saw some tupperware in the fridge that wasn’t there yesterday.”

“Four.” Ushijma says without a moments hesitation. “The crêpes were the last thing I decided to make.”

Kuroo blinks. His eyes narrow. “We went to bed at ten. That’s like six hours of sleep. Was it Oikawa leaving that woke you up?”

“No. I do not sleep properly on occasion.”

“Insomnia?”

“Not quite.”

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. 

“I’ll go get that.” Kuroo offers. “Which one of your friends to you think it is?”

“Eita. He’s ahead of time. Reon always comes on time.” Kuroo chuckles and Ushijima turns off the stove. They have more than enough unhealthy foods. He may be a fan of sweets but he’s not going to forego his health to indulge. 

“The Hell are you?” Is the first thing Ushijima hears from the doorway. 

“Who the Hell are  _ you _ ” Kuroo smoothly returns “Semi Eita, I assume?”

“What a good deduction- the heck is that TV? HEY WAKATOSHI, WHEN DID YOU GET THAT BEAST!?” 

For the second time that morning, Ushijima is greeted with Kuroo’s cackle and the contemplation of life decisions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we're going to have two things going on at the same time: Miyagi with Bokuto, Daichi, and Oikawa; then Tokyo with Kuroo and Ushijima. Both groups are going have their own things to deal with and I already have a lot of shenanigans planned out from them ohohoho. Well, not planned, but I think I know what I want to do (ideas are subject to change).  
> Chapters will be either split half-and-half or there will be one chapter focusing on what's happening in Miyagi while another focuses on what's going no in Tokyo, since I want to give both groups equal love and not just focus on whoever has Daichi with them. Why do I have to love the man so much? I don't know.  
> \-------------  
> If you want to talk about Daichi and Haikyuu with me:  
> 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 of Bokuto and Daichi's Miyagi vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations- you have made it to chapter 20! There’s nothing special about this chapter, nothing celebratory. We’re just going to continue on this fic with usual. I decided to divide it kinda? I has going to do half-and-half Miyagi and Tokyo, but then I decided that I’ll do one chapter Miyagi, one chapter Tokyo, and sometimes little snippets of what’s going on in the other part of the country. Updates are going to slower than usual now that I’m settling into school and going from have 1 AP class to have 4 is only a little smudge in my plans for the future. For some reason I thought switching band for AP Bio to raise my GPA was a good idea. I suddenly got the motivation to make this chapter more detailed after having recurring dreams about volleyball.  
> Thank you for the 5000 hits!

Bokuto likes to cling. It wasn’t really obvious before but recently reliving a traumatic experience will probably do that to a person. Not so surprisingly, Daichi doesn’t mind. He’s always been someone who likes hugs made even better when he’s usually on the receiving end due to fate making his friends the taller portion of Japanese people. 

Koushi says he’ll be picking them up at the intersection they somehow always managed to meet up at, regardless of how late or early they were leaving from home on their way to school with the other third years that make up his small group of close friends. The whole walk there, Bokuto was brimming with words and questions. 

“Karasuno is a ten minute walk that way” Daichi points. It’s weird, to say the least, walking this path again. It’s warmer in Tokyo, there’s more people, there’s more  _ everything  _ in Tokyo. There’s no textured yellow on the sidewalks here, there’s no need to have to remember to walk on a certain side of the road. He’s become too used to the winding journeys he takes on campus to quickly get to class. For lunch, he’s too used to having to climb up a hill instead of walking at a barely noticeable decline. 

“Lucky- I always have to take a train to school!” In Miyagi buses are used more often to get from place to place. Buses and bicycles. He’s long since gotten over the giddiness of getting on a train for spontaneous icecream runs. 

“You need to try the icecream here.” Daichi suddenly says. “There’s this guy who used to live in Italy and he started a shop here. It’s not icecream but…  _ jerāto _ .”

“Gelato?” Bokuto cocks his head to the side. “What made you think about icecream? I mean, I love icecream! Yeah! It’s just” he lets out a frustrated huff of breath, words unwillingly to come out. 

“You said you took a train to school. In the last few weeks, I’ve taken the most trains I have in my life. And ninety percent of those were because Kuroo wanted to go get icecream.” Daichi grins and pats Bokuto on the back when he catches the moment recollection and realization turned into craving.

“ _ Daiiiichiiiiiii _ ” the spiker wines, tugging at the shorter teen’s shirt. “I want gelato now! Do you think they’ll have weird flavors, like yakiniku? Daichi?  _ Daiiiichiiiiii _ ~ come on, answer me here! Don’t leave me hanging.” Daichi covers his mouth with his hands, trying to muffle his laughter. Bokuto leans over and continues to beg, putting his head on Daichi’s shoulder, which only succeeds in drawing even more laughter out of him for some strange reason. Sometimes you shouldn’t think about things- just let it  _ be _ . 

After he had woken up that morning, Daichi only had about two hours before they had to leave to meet up with Koushi. He kept his eyes on Bokuto for most of the time. He had packed the teen’s hair gel but he made no effort to do anything besides run a comb through his hair. He looked like another person with his hair down and it still unnerves him. 

Breakfast had been centered around his mom and Bokuto talking to each other about so many different things. He failed to keep up with the conversation, instead savoring his two mere servings of food so that he has room for lunch. Bokuto seemed as normal as he could get but he had barely finished his first serving, insisting that he was full.

Any moment Daichi was still there would be a certain guest’s head on his shoulder within a few seconds. It made him smile. Because the only two people he did that with was Akaashi and Kuroo, if the rooster-headed man was sitting down. Something he did to people he’s close with. It warms his heart that Bokuto also considers him to be a close friend. 

“Hey, that’s them!”

“Them?” He’s snapped out his bout of laughter, looking up to see where Bokuto is looking. It’s the opposite direction from where Koushi usually comes from when they walked to school; the direction of the mountain. And then it hits him that Bokuto didn’t say “he” but  _ “them _ ”. Them. As in more than one. 

“It’s my son!” Bokuto’s grip on the back of Daichi’s t-shirt loosens just a little. Daichi’s eyes widen.

“DAICHI-SAN! DAICHI-SAN!” In person, not over hundreds of kilometers on phone, that voice is so much more cheerful and bright. Some goes with the hair, more fiery than how it looks in the video clips. He wonders is Koushi will be jealous when he tells him that Hinata sends him all of the selfies he takes with Kageyama, no matter how blurry or ridiculous they are. That they have their own little album on his phone, also backed up digitally. Right next to a quickly filling album with Daichi glaring at the camera after Kuroo has stolen it to take surprise photos of him, Bokuto and Ushijima bent over the succulents, trying to water them so carefully and perfectly. Oikawa surrounded by tinfoil hats and lumps that are supposed to be aliens. So many photos which he knows the story behind each and every one of them, surprising himself when he scroll through them. It’s surreal- it hasn’t been long and he already has what could be a lifetime of memories to some people. 

Right now Bokuto’s craving icecream. Now, Daichi is craving Ushijima’s milkbread which Oikawa had wrapped and stuffed into his bag. 

“Hinata, slow down!” Racing down the sidewalk is a blur of orange, feet quickly slapping against the sidewalk. There’s nothing different about him, the three millimeters of growth he texted Daichi about imperceptible. 

“Daichi-san!” Hinata exclaims one last time before throwing himself at his former captain. It’s only thanks to Bokuto’s hand on his back that keeps him from falling over and cracking his head open on the pavement. He needs to remember that Hinata’s powerful jumps aren’t only used on the court. He got the breath knocked out of him. 

“Hinata!” Daichi laughs, not bothering to look at Koushi from over Hinata’s head. Let his friend be annoyed. This hug is more important. 

“I missed you Daichi-san! Tsukishima has been so much more annoying without you keeping him under control!” Daichi grins. Hinata is exactly the same, even over the phone. He hasn’t changed at all, this little ball of sunshine. After Akaashi comes to keep Bokuto’s mood from taking a jump into a chasm, he’ll be sure to spend some extra time for Hinata and maybe-probably- _ defnitely  _ get him something for his birthday. 

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have a favorite  _ kouhai _ \- it would of messed up team dynamics with blatant favoritism. So it doesn’t really count that he didn’t become close to Hinata until  _ after  _ Nationals, him and the rest of the third years taking their hands off the reigns (which had been chaotic for the first week) so the second and first-years could start to shift into their roles as leaders of the team, preparing for when they have to lead the new batch of first years. 

“I missed you too.” He ruffles his mop of orange hair and is rewarded with an even sunnier smile. 

“Don’t I get a hug too?” Bokuto whines. Hinata’s head snaps to the side, incredible fast, and his eyes narrow at Bokuto. His mouth presses into a thin line. There’s barely any recognition in his eyes, suspicion obvious on his mildly constipated looking face. 

“I… know you” Hinata slowly says. Bokuto eagerly nods, the intensity of it bouncing his hair up and down, unveiling all of his eyes and his angled eyebrows for the world to see for quick flashes of time. He hears Koushi snort. 

“ACE!” And then “Bokuto-san!” Hinata unlatches himself from Daichi only to reattach himself to Bokuto. He can now breath normally again without the vice-like grip around his midsection. “I didn’t know you were also coming!”

“It was a surprise” Bokuto says, drawing out the last word. 

“This is going to be awesome!” Hinata exclaims. Daichi looks at Koushi, giving himself a moment to really look over his friend. It saddens him to think that he’s had more contact with Hinata than his best friends he left behind in Miyagi, but that’s just the sort of relationship they have. Their bond won’t weaken over distance or time. It’ll just always be there. 

It looks like he got a haircut recently. And washed it, which he wouldn’t of noticed before had Oikawa not tried to experiment on his hair by making him use different shampoos and conditioners, pointing out the minute detail shifts in his hair. He’s also grown  _ taller  _ for some reason. There’s a Look on his face that looks too similar to the one Oikawa gets when he thinks of hiding one of Ushijima’s succulents

“Who else is at the lunch?” Koushi shrugs. 

“Everyone.”

“As in-”

“Ennoshita was just able to persuade Nishinoya and Tanaka from sneaking into Saeko’s van last night. Takeda-sensei called me when you were late because Hinata and Kageyama were on the same call and were overwhelming him.” Bokuto’s laugh is unrestrained. Daichi is willing to bet that he didn’t recognize half of the names. 

“Wait” Hinata narrows his eyes again. “Bokuto-san… why  _ are  _ you here?” He lets out a gasp. “Tsukki was right! You  _ are  _ his roomate!” Daichi sighs. He should of told them ahead of time. Why his life turning into a drama? He vaguely remembers his first day in Tokyo, Kuroo taking them to the icecream place. Calling Asahi. The list Ushijima had-

“Suga” Daichi says. “What’s happening at the lunch?” Koushi stuffs his hands in his pockets and tilts his head back, letting out a cackle. The innocence is gone from his face. They start their walk down the street, Hinata having to take two steps for their every one. Bokuto’s hand has moved so that it’s on his shoulder, other arm wrapped around Hinata’s shoulders. 

“Nothing much. Just the rest of the Golden Year, Takeda-san, Ukai-san. Saeko and Akiteru are also going to make an appearance.”

“Akiteru-sensei!” Bokuto cheers. “I don’t have calculus but I  _ love  _ that man!” Koushi holds back a snort. Hinata looks up at Bokuto with awe.

“What’s calculus?” Hinata asks reverently. 

“So what’s this  _ Golden Year _ ?” Daichi asks before Bokuto could say anything. The gods know what sort of answer he would of given the second year. 

“Our new first years came up with it” Koushi proudly says. “All of them call Nishinoya and Tanaka senpai and one of them is a libero, so that’s even better for our future. We were the team that brought Karasuno to Nationals for the first time in years, we beat our rival school Nekoma, and they’re betting on when Ennoshita is going to lose a tooth.” 

“Lose a tooth?” Bokuto straightens his shoulder with clear interest. 

“In the prefecture prelims for the spring Interhigh” Koushi starts, making hand gestures, telling a story both with his words and his hands, “There was this team, Wakatun. That match was when Ennoshita first shined as captain. It’s apparently a rite of passage now, a prophecy of sorts. There was a collision that knocked Daichi out for the rest of the match.” Koushi slams his fist down on his open palm for dramatic effect. “So whoever takes lead when Ennoshita loses a molar will become the next captain.” Daichi is stopped in his tracks by the hand on his shoulder tightening. He’s suddenly turned around, the speed making the world look like how it does when he takes a tumble to get the ball. There are two hands gripping his shoulders, owlish eyes burning with concern. 

“You lost a  _ tooth _ ?Are you okay? Does it hurt? Did you start losing more teeth-”

“Hey, I’m fine” Daichi says, just a slight bit awkwardly because of the proximity. “It was the prelims for the Spring Interhigh. I dived for the ball and I collided with a teammate’s shoulder-”

“ _ Which teammate _ ?” Bokuto is murderous now, eyes narrowed and voice seething. There’s a dangerous fire in his gaze, juxtaposing with the feather gentle fingers that still rest on his shoulders. Koushi and Hinata don’t say anything, both of them watching the exchange with indecipherable looks on their faces. “Who exactly on your team decided to hurt you like that? It was a facial injury, and shoulders aren’t exactly small. It could of led to a concussion.” There’s an urgency in his voice that Daichi has only heard a few times from the spiker. And those times were only in the past twenty-four hours. “Concussions can kill you! What if you-”

Not wanting Bokuto to possibly drag himself into a meltdown, he reaches up and clamps his hand on top of his head, fingers sliding under locks of grey-white and black. He’s pretty sure Oikawa packed Bokuto’s toiletries. He probably put in a bottle of shampoo and conditioner in the bag too, something fancy as is the Oikawa Tooru way with all things pertaining to hair. 

“Hey, Koutarou.” He picks his words carefully. “I’m fine. I’m right here. I’m alive. You’re freaking Hinata out.” Hinata doesn’t nod or shake his head, not even blinking. He looks like a statue, his mouth frozen half-open. Bokuto’s hands slip from his shoulders, back hunching and arms moving to hug himself. Dejection. “It only hurt for a little bit. Tanaka was much worse.”

“So it was Saeko-kun’s brother?” Daichi holds back a wince. It’s very easy to forget that Bokuto is actually  _ very  _ intelligent, even though his mind is mostly focused on volleyball. Just like Kageyama. The boy has a wonderful memory which is very useful for a setter, but he could also learn how to apply it to school and try to get grades higher than the bare minimum to be allowed to play volleyball. 

“It was an accident” Daichi says. “Come on- we’re going to be late for lunch if you worry about me even more.” He pats Bokuto’s head and takes his hand, a gentle tug being enough to get him moving again. Both Hinata and Koushi look at Bokuto worryingly and the look Koushi gives Daichi is one that he just  _ knows  _ means that he’s going to be asking him about this later. 

“Bokuto-san?” Hinata asks a bit awkwardly. “Are you Daichi-san’s b-b-b-b-BOYFRIEND!?” He blurts after a few seconds of worrisome stuttering. Koushi lightly punches Hinata in the back. The setter has a wide smile on his face. It looks manic. He also looks at the where Daichi is holding Bokuto’s hand and then proceeds to give him a very very  _ very  _ obvious wink. 

“Now why would you say that?” Koushi asks, voice sweetened like the smell of a single drop of vanilla creating a deliciously deceiving aura from a too bitter cup of coffee. Extra black. 

“Well, you guys seem really close!” Hinata says. “And I don’t think Daichi-san would bring someone home who he isn’t close with. And when you called when you went to Tokyo, Bokuto said something about a future boyfriend! Maybe he was talking about himself?” Bokuto doesn’t react to the statement, instead remaining in his newest, strangest form of dejection. Hinata… remembers that call? The redhead’s mind is also as focused on volleyball as Kageyama’s. And he doesn’t have as good of a memory as the setter. And that was  _ weeks  _ ago. To still be thinking about it… 

It raises suspicion in him. What  _ exactly  _ has been going on back home?

“I forgot to tell you this” Koushi absently says, not as if the words he were saying made it sound like he had just read Daichi’s thoughts “But the kiddos have become miniature detectives, trying to find out what you’re doing in Tokyo. Your texts haven’t exactly been that specific.” They pass by a house which Daichi remembers as one way down the street from Koushi’s house. Where is lunch? Koushi was very vague with answering what will be going on. “You also don’t want to know what Nishinoya and Tanaka have been doing outside of club” is what he hears when he zones into what Koushi is saying. He hadn’t noticed that he’s stopped listening. “All the third years have become paranoid, I swear. It’s so weird calling  _ Nishinoya  _ a third year.”

“Yeah. And, you’re right. I don’t want to know.” Daichi’s voice comes out strained. “But, um, Hinata” He turns his gaze to Hinata, bouncing along next to him. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” To his shock, Hinata slumps. As in his eyes are no longer wide open, his shoulders curl forward a bit, and the barest of pouts cross his face. He looks similar to Bokuto now, both of their postures radiating dejection. “Hinata? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just” Hinata fiddles with the hem of his t-shirt “I want you to be happy! Maybe your team is really mean and your other roommates hate volleyball. And having someone who’s like my Tobio” his heart might start to change phases of matter “with you would make you happier.” Hinata bites his lip. “It also would of been nice to have a second dad.” Daichi swallows. And he wonders. Again. And again. And again: 

_ When  _ did his life become a K-drama?

“Oh my gods, that was adorable.” Koushi says, wiping away an invisible tear. Hinata’s speech has drawn Bokuto out of his dejection, word by word spoken with such honesty, until he’s staring at the second year with a look similar to amazement. 

“Hinata…” is all Bokuto says, voice uncharacteristically soft. 

“Come here” Daichi says and Hinata slips from under Bokuto’s arm so that Daichi can pull him into a one-armed hug. “My roommates are  _ really  _ nice, alright? You’ll meet them next beak- I’m planning on bringing them all to Miyagi.”

Hinata gasps, eyes twinkling. “Really?”

“Yes, really. And my teammates, they’re also really nice. Jin, he’s a year older than me, he’s from Korea. He’s in charge of my libero training and he also plays really good violin and piano. I may not have anyone like Kageyama yet, but my roommates are definitely my friends. You don’t get another dad but you do get a bunch of crazy uncles. 

“And the boyfriend thing… funny story. I don’t want to tell the story twice so that can wait till lunch. Which, by the way. Where  _ is  _ lunch, Koushi?” Koushi rolls his eyes. 

“You don’t recognize this path?” Daichi looks around, frowning. The only thing he had noted was that they were walking down a street Daichi has barely walked on. To his side, Bokuto has started swinging their clasped hands. 

“Not really? You better not be taking me anywhere expensive. I don’t think my Starbucks paycheck could handle that.” Koushi laugh. 

“No no no- this is the cheapest place to go!” The teen stops and turns to face the three, pointing a thump to his right. “Here we are.”

Of course,  _ here  _ is an outdoor volleyball court.  _ Here  _ also has, once again, blankets spread with food and drink with a small pile of volleyballs flooding out of a reusable back stationed just outside the corner of the court. Daichi admits- he likes picnics and eating outdoors. But they did this once already. It should seem repetitive to him but… no. He loves it. He knows Bokuto will too, judging by the identical lights that shine in his and Hinata’s eyes upon seeing the bag of volleyballs. 

“THE MAN OF THE HOUR!”

“DAY!”

“WEEK!”

“WEEK _ S _ !”

“All of you are idiots.” Tsukishima pushes his glasses up. He starts walking towards his former captain from where he was leaning against a lamppost, talking to Yamaguchi and Yachi. “Sawamura-san, I hope you are. . .” his voice trails off. Akiteru brightens, sitting on a spread of blankets with Takeda, Ukai, and Saeko, bottles of beer in the four’s hands. 

“Heeey! Daichi-kun! I didn’t know you’d be here too, Koutarou-kun.”

“Akiteru-sensei!” Bokuto chirps and that alerts the rest of his former teammates, coach, and teacher to the unexpected guest that Daichi brought along. Tsukishima has paled significantly and Kageyama looks like he’s about to burst all of his brain cells trying to identify Bokuto as the Bokuto he knows. He’s squinting, blinking slowly, tilting his head sideways and almost a hundred and eighty degrees. “Heya!” He waves to the rest of the team. He’s never seen Tanaka and Nishinoya be so quiet. 

“Um” Daichi says awkwardly. “Suga told me you guys knew already? This is one of my roommates. You’re familiar with him. He was Fukurodani’s captain and ace, Bokuto.”

“Hey hey hey, Tsukki! Didja grow taller?” Bokuto lets go of Daichi’s hand, bouncing over to the middle blocker. Yamaguchi, yet again, is repeating “Tsukki” under his breath as if it were an incantation to keep the wing spiker away, semi-nervously creeping behind his best friend like a freckled shadow. 

“This is a dream. I wasn’t supposed to be right” Tsukishima says, stiffening when Bokuto hugs him, his level of stiffness evolving from a plank of wood to a steel pipe.

“Hey, that’s your guys’s ace!” Bokuto cheers, leaving Tsukishima to go and bother Asahi. Yamaguchi pats Tsukishima on the pack and Hinata abandons Daichi’s side to toddle after the wing spiker, jumping up and down and better introducing Bokuto to everyone. He’d only met them at training camp and National’s. At training camp there were so many people to interact with, he was barely acquainted with most of them. Hinata drags Bokuto to where Kinoshita, Ennoshita, and Narita are gathered. Even with his hair down, he still towers above them, waving his hands around cheerfully. Kinoshita looks like he may have a nervous breakdown any moment now. 

Koushi goes to help Kiyoko and Yachi with setting up a foldable table, lifting containers and baskets of food and putting it on the table. Daichi can already tell that the majority of it will be meat and deserts, vegetables only there because of Kiyoko and the others will only eat the vegetables  _ because of  _ Kiyoko. 

The kids can be pretty weird at times. 

“Daichi-san.” He doesn’t let out a yelp, but Kageyama scared him. When did he manage to sneak up on him like that? 

“Kageyama” Daichi says, turning around and looking up. He smiles and Kageyama’s awkwardness. “You’ve grown taller.” Kageyama blinks with surprise. His cheeks color and he ducks his head down. 

“Two centimeters” he grumbles, a shine of happiness in his voice. “Even if boke is going to grow taller, he’ll never be able to catch up to me now.” Daichi stifles a laugh. None of them have really changed- it’s like they’re all frozen in time. Ukai’s hair is still bleached. Takeda is still wearing the same green jacket. Tanaka and Nishinoya are slaves to Kiyoko’s every word. Kinoshita and Narita are probably plotting something- they’re too quiet to  _ not  _ be doing something. 

“So how have you been?”

“Good” Kageyama says with a nod. “We had a practice match with Johzenji. Their captain is annoying. He was bothering us for your number.” An eyebrow raises. Daichi remembers the energetic sunshine yellow team. They were very cheerful. Their captain, he was a second year, and he had a tongue piercing if he remembers correctly. Their team was like Karasuno: daring and wanting to reach great heights, but they weren’t able to. They might be able to go far this year if they get themselves under control. 

“Is that so” he hums. Kageyama shuffles on his feet. 

“How is your team?” Kageyama blurts. “Is your setter giving you good tosses? Is the coach helpful? Is the captain like you? Are you a starter? What’s your jersey number? Are there any stretches-”

“Kageyama.”

“Sorry. Do you think I can go to college yet? Tanaka-senpai said I have to be smart so I’m trying to be smart.” Daichi doesn’t try to question what Kageyama’s volleyball oriented brain is trying to do to be smart. And if Tanaka gave him advice… yeah. 

“No, you still have a year after this until you can come to college. I think it’d be better if you join the V-league right away. Knowing you, you’ll probably have scouts hounding after you.” Kageyama considers his words for a few moments. “College also means more learning about things that aren’t volleyball.”

“I’ll consider it” Kageyama says, as if Daichi’s every word defines his future. “How is your setters tosses? Are they different than mine? What does he do?” Daichi’s mind stills. Including Oikawa, the team has three setters, although one of them isn’t technically a setter but a wing spiker. And he’s only been hitting Oikawa’s sets, and that’s only on the side so that his hitting skills don’t go rusty. He’s also been getting tips from him about setting for when he gets far enough to do the infamous libero jump-set. 

“I haven’t really gotten enough sets to decide” Daichi shrugs. “You should ask Bokuto.”

“Why?” Kageyama asks with a frown. “Do they not” his face ripples with shock. “They don’t toss to you?”

“No no! They would!” Daichi laughs. “I forget if I told all of you already, but I’m the libero this year. So I need to learn how to toss properly for some situations. The reason I got the scholarship was because the scouts thought I was good at defense from watching our games at National’s and their only libero just retired. It’ll only be for around a year though so I have sometimes get their tosses when I want to practice spiking. I actually have to talk with Nishinoya and see if he can help me out sometime with quick receives.”

“Hinata has gotten really good at defense” Kageyama points out. “You can ask him too?”

“Yeah, we’ve been in contact” Daichi says. “He sent me a few videos. I think I’m good with reading ball trajectory.” At the reminder of the videos, Kageyama frowns, his left eye twitching. 

“The videos, yes. He spends a lot of time on those.” There’s a hidden meaning behind kageyama’s words but Daichi doesn’t want to dig deeper. His best guess is that Kageyama doesn’t even know what he’s feeling himself at the moment. He regrets to say that he partially agrees with Koushi’s past sideline snickering of Kageyama being emotionally constipated. It’s not that his emotions are…  _ constipated _ \- he’s simply unable to interpret them popular. It’s similar to the situation of that half-vulcan, Spock, in one of the original series  _ Star Trek  _ episode that Oikawa had forced him to watch after they came back from work. Oikawa had been a large fan of the captain (Kirk, was his name?) ever since America made two movies retelling the original series. Oikawa had tried getting them to watch it but Bokuto had accidentally broke the DVD when getting it out of the case… Daichi personally likes the doctor the the best. Bones? Maybe. Probably. Only Oikawa or Bokuto would know. 

“HEY DAICHI-SAN!” He hears Noya and shout and  _ gods _ , not now. He was going to handle it camly and in an orderly manner- he had two train rides to think about how he’s going to tell everyone a  _ lot  _ of things. He thinks that at other schools, like Shinzen, the team members wouldn’t be this close, like family. He remembers his junior high team, how their ties quickly faded away like smoke in the wind. But these guys, they’re too stubborn he admits with a mental chuckles. 

At least he isn’t getting stalked at lunch time. He wonders what Asahi’s classmates think of him being stalked by a highschool over twenty centimeters shorter than him. 

“Nishinoya” Daichi says, high-fiving the libero when his hand is offered up. 

“Call me Yuu now, Daichi-san!” The libero grins, pointing a thumb at himself proudly. “But that doesn’t matter- you’re a  _ libero and you never told me _ ? When did that happen!?”

Daichi rubs the back of his neck. From over Nishi-  _ Yuu _ , from over Yuu’s shoulder, he sees Bokuto trying to sneak with Hinata to get closer to the food. Yachi was threatening them with a spatula? And the poor girl is shaking so much.

“It’s a long story” Daichi admits. “But long story short, I was recruited because the school wanted me to play libero.” Yuu looks at him in shock and he seems to grow even more energetic. 

“Don’t they know that you’re not a libero?”

“Yes, they told me.” Yuu lets out a low whistle. It’s strange trying to think of the boy by his given name instead of his family name. “Their libero retired and they didn’t have a backup. Apparently every other third-year libero wasn’t good enough for them and they said they liked my defense at Nationals.” There’s a certain look on the others face now, something akin to what Daichi usually sees when he and Tanaka are up to something. From the food table, the smell of, well,  _ food  _ starts to wafte over. There are two little portable gas stoves set up with little flowers on the side identifying them as Yachi’s. She really will be a good manager. 

“Hey Daisan-”

“If I have to call you by your given name, you have to do the same. And  _ without  _ the honorifics.”

“Ok Daichi!” Yuu grins. “Can I teach you how to do the rolling thunder? And you have to promise me you’re going to say it at your first official match, ‘kay? I want it to be on TV again!” Daichi’s lips press tight together. Nishinoya’s- dang it, not again-  _ Yuu’s  _ arms are crossed in front of him and Daichi just notices the teen is wearing a tropical themed shirt. On one hand, Yuu could be joking, but Daichi knows he’s not joking. And on that same hand, Daichi could go ahead and lie and say  _ yes, I will say Rolliiiiiiing Sandā!  _ and not actually do it. On the other hand, Daichi is an honest and reliable guy who prides himself on being, well, honest and reliable. He can’t just lie to one of his closest friends, no matter how strange the request is and how it might tear his college rep and give his roommates ammo to use against him.

He could also learn from just watching….

But it won’t be the same.

“Alright” Daichi says. He wonders if he can change the pronunciation to proper english (although he doesn’t like saying the  _ th  _ sound- it tickles). He knows he won’t do that too because it won’t have the same feel, once again. He’ll bring another thing from Karasuno to the National court again, except it won’t be a highschool tournament but college. “You guys still have practice going on so I’ll drop by tomorrow and you can teach me then.”

Yuu lets out a whoop and jumps into the air. 

“Yes! I knew it! You’re going to be an awesome libero now, Daichi-san. Not as awesome as me, but still awesome!” Daichi doesn’t correct the name use as the boy bonds away probably to go to Kiyoko. Daichi gravitates towards Asahi, slapping his best friend on the back. They only manage a short-lived conversation about how their respective classes and teams are going and Daichi entertains the thought of telling him about his team because Oikawa did the same with his third years. But before he could, Yuu screams for everyone to get to the court. Turns out he didn’t go to Kiyoko- she was just in the same direction as the pile of volleyballs. 

Daichi blinks when something hits him in the face. He just manages to catch kneepads? He looks up and Koushi is smiling deviously at him. 

“You knew all along” Daichi drawls, raising an eyebrow in a manner he knows will look shit-eating because he’s seen it on Kuroo’s face a hundred times too many. Koushi blings and nearly skips over to Daichi, an equal look on his face. 

And then he starts laughing, hands gripping the sides of Daichi’s arms with his forehead resting on his shoulder. Koushi’s left hand repetitively slaps his bicep. Painfully. 

“That-that” Koushi wheezes. “That was  _ so much  _ like, ah, what’s his face? Kuroo! Oh my gods, seriously, what have they  _ done to you _ -” Daichi shoves his best friend away with a smile of his own. Asahi wasn’t able to make out any of the words but he instead looks at the two of them in horror, obviously confused.

Kicking his shoes off, he quickly slips the knee pads on. And then something else is chucked at his face. Daichi looks down at the unopened plastic package with two things similar looking to kneepads inside of them. He’s quick to open it, sliding the elbow pads up his arms. They’re nice and snug, the right size. 

“Wha-”

“I had your setter measure your arms in your sleep” Koushi snickers. Daichi’s eyes twitch. He can imagine that it wasn’t just Oikawa, but probably Kuroo or Bokuto too who “helped him” with measuring the area around his elbows. He thinks of saying something snarky like  _ oh, wow _ or a simple but honest  _ thank you _ but he ends up settling with “oh.”

“Knowing you you probably thought you could continue sliding bare elbowed, but you’re a libero now. Show your elbows some respect.” The next slap on the back pushes him towards the court, where teams have already started to form. 

Daichi is on the same team as Bokuto, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Ennoshita, and Yamaguchi. The other team is composed of Nishinoya, Asahi, Koushi, Hinata, Tanaka, Narita and Kinnoshita. Saeko, Ukai, Takeda, Akiteru, Kiyoko, and Yachi have positioned themself some distant around the court to get any balls that fly out of bounds. Akiteru and Yachi have struck up a good conversation. Daichi would of been worried if his professor made Yachi anxious- they’re too similar. 

“Hey” Tanaka whines “That’s not fair! Why are the  _ city boys  _ on the same team?” The court explodes in laughter because, of course, Tanaka still has such a low grade in english that he still says city boys as  _ shitty boys _ . Tanaka just flares his nostrils even more at the laughter but shock overcomes his face when he sees Kiyoko hiding an obvious smile with her hand, flinging his arms around Nishinoya.

“Don’t mind don’t mind” Koushi grins, staring at Daichi from across the net. “They only have one ace- we’ve got  _ three _ . We also have two awesome pinch servers” he nods at Narita and Kinnoshita “And we’ve got a libero who actually knows how to be a libero. We’ve got this.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Bokuto exclaims. Asahi, thank the gods, had brought spare kneepads that miraculously fit the multi-subject major. His arms drop from where he’d been stretching them. The two teams are arranged. The challenge for him is that his team only has six players and both teams refuse to play with modified teams of four or five with the bonus of having people to switch in and out. Of course, the other team can switch Nishinoya in and out as they are made of seven, but when Daichi moves to the front line, he’ll play wing spiker instead of middle blocker or libero. It’ll be a bit muddling to switch around at first and remember that he can spike now, but he thinks he’ll get it down. 

Because of that disadvantage, his team gets to serve first. And why have anyone other than Bokuto serve first to wipe the pompous grins off of the other team’s faces?

Kiyoko tosses a ball to Bokuto. He walks out of the court to get ready to serve and Daichi catches his gaze. Even behind the curtain of hair he can make out the wink. He’s happy. Bokuto’s face has regained its color and he’s looking excited. Keeping his mind busy, especially with volleyball, is the best way to go. Bokuto mouths something:

_ Toshi _ . 

And Daichi nods back, turning around, preparing to see Hinata’s devastated look as he recognizes the serve. Nishinoya may be teaching him a move tomorrow which will bring a little bit of Karasuno to the collegiate volleyball stage, but not without Bokuto and him bringing back a little bit of Teikoku for Karasuno to see. 

If there was one thing that surprised Daichi the most in the past few weeks, if there was something unbelievable that happened, it would be the unique friendship he formed with Ushijima. And it doesn’t have to do with the other knocking someone out with a pan of rice, it doesn’t have to do with piggy-back rides, honest words of encouragement. It’s just that somehow, they just sort of clicked. And he’s only had that same click with Koushi and Asahi. He has similar ones with Oikawa, Bokuto, and Kuroo, but they already had a bit of background before coming to college together. 

Even with being a libero it was mostly Ushijima who forced Daichi to also improve as a wing spiker instead of mainly maintaining the level of playing he has. That included a lot of shoulder stretches to improve his flexibility in that area even more. Metaphorically dragging him to the court to have Oikawa toss to him. Telling him that his spikes were ordinary and not special, which hurt him and left him in shock at first, but that was before Ushijima started explaining how he could achieve spiking and serving ambidexterity as well to make him stand out even more besides as a defensive player. 

Its also helped him type papers out faster. 

In front of him, Tsukishima covers the back of his head with his hands. 

Bokuto’s serve slams down on the other side of the court before the middle blocker could finish adjusting his stance., the swing of his left arm completely natural. It’s less powerful than the original and omre wild, but it’s still sharp and fast. Even Hinata, with his newfound amazing skill of being able to quickly see the trajectory of a ball base off of form only blinks. From behind the other side of the court, Kiyoko gracefully jumps up and catches the ball, huggin it to her stomach, face betraying no emotion. 

Koushi’s eye twitches. Bokuto laughs “hey hey hey- no touch service ace!”

Service ace after service ace, they rack up four points before Nishinoya’s body remembers how to catch the particular serve. Everything about it screams whose serve it is, like signing a form with someone else's signature, but no one makes the connection it would seem. 

“Chance ball!” Someone exclaims as the ball gracefully arches through the air. Daichi doesn’t know if it’s only him that’s thinking this, but everything seems easier. He knows how to adjust to receive balls already, and last time he thought about his level of skill with that was in his third year. It’s not that everything is slow. It’s like learning a piece of music that seems complex at first and after so much practice, you look at the music and think how it used to be so hard but somehow, you can just play it now. It still has the complexity- you’ve just gotten used to it. 

That’s what this feels like, when they’re leading, 7-3, when the other team goes to pull off a synchronized attack with Yuu ready to receive a rebound, the ball soaring over Hinata’s hand, meeting Asahi’s before it could get to Tanaka. He watches it spin. He watches the arm come forward. He knows exactly where it’s going to land. 

He runs to the back corner of the court, jumping up and bringing his hands together, tilting his head back so much the world is near upside down. His forearms meet the ball, stinging the skin there just a little, smoothly bringing the ball to Kageyama, who feints it over the net before the other side could gather themselves. 

After that moment, it feels like a real game, with both sides pulling out every trick they have in the book. They only play one set because of how intense the volleys are and because of the hunger raging in their stomaches. Bokuto’s hair is nearly slicked up again with the amount he’s sweated. Nishinoya’s hair has gone slightly limp but it doesn’t dull the brightness of his grin. 

They easily win, 25-18. 

Hey Daichi,” Bokuto slings a sweaty arm around his shoulders. “I love your team. Adopt me please.” Daichi rolls his eyes and nods at the flat pan of frying meat. 

“Go eat your meat.” He thinks, for today at least, Bokuto will be good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have Kuroo and the Shiratorizawa Trio. If you have any ideas of shenanigans you might like to see, go ahead and comment! I already have Kuroo and Eita quickly forming a kinda-sorta-not-really epic broship. But because of school the next chapter won't probably be up for a week or two (again) so this gives me a lot of time to write another 6000 word chapter with as much shenanigans as I can fit
> 
> And of course Ushijima is going to be in this chapter without really being in it. Who do you think I am?  
> \----  
> 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 of Ushijima and Kuroo's duet adventures in Tokyo  
> POV Ushijima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the good feedback! This chapter, I admit, took me a while to type because writing from Ushijima's POV is just so _unique_. His way of thinking seems to be the most different than most of the characters. If you have any suggestions for what you'll like in Miyagi Ch2 or Tokyo Ch2, just leave a comment!

“Three. Two. One. Go.” Reon blandly says with the faintest of smiles on his face, hidden under a well-practiced look of neutrality. Ushijima, from the outside, looks passive to what is happening. Internally, he is horrified. 

Kuroo, against Ushijima’s original assumption, had gotten along surprisingly well with Reon and Eita. One of Reon’s superiors at the sporting goods company he’s working at on the side retired, leading to Reon’s not unexpected promotion. Ushijima never doubted that his friend would quickly succeed in life. He had gotten a job during their last term at Shiratorizawa after stepping down from the volleyball club to only come to practice a few times a week so their underclassmen could get used to a team without their powerful third years, only a week or so after their loss in the spring preliminaries. He also got into the V-league team Kiniro Sport Jumpers. They’re only Division 3 but Reon said he wanted to start from the bottom instead of the top in a Division 1 team, inspired by other team’s rise to the top. He wanted to make the team good with the help of his teammates, slowly increasing their rank from three to two to a Division 1 team. They would probably succeed, no matter how many years it’ll take

Eita was working part time at a bar where he plays guitar, something he had only done before for his friends alone in the privacy of their dorm rooms. He goes to the same university as the Aoba Johsai and Karasuno third-years. He’s studying music theory and composition, focusing on the guitar, hoping to become a composer and musician in a band, preferably rock or pop. 

It was revealed that Kuroo and Eita share a similar taste in music. It was unnerving, to say the least, at first. The two of them had started with glaring at each other after the comment of the TV. It was followed by Ushijima having to greet his friend and make him comfortable enough to start a conversation which had started slow and strange at first. And then it seemed as if they suddenly developed a mutually understand and started getting along very well. And in a strange way. It was similar to how Oikawa had treated him in high school except… better. 

Kuroo’s newest knee pads were made by the company Reon works for, which led to a discussion about material quality and durability. He and Reon had to sit through Eita and Kuroo singing their own rendition of _Baka mitai_ with sauce smeared across their lips. Their voices blended well together, when their voices hit the right note those few rare times. Kuroo politely declined Eita’s offer to start a band with him. He volunteered Daichi even though non of them have actually heard him play violin, and a text to the Karasuno setter, Sugawara, gave them the same anwer. They didn’t even know about it until after he came back with Jin after a visit to the music department during practices, fingers indented with lines from violin strings. 

All three of them ganged up to praise Ushijima on his cooking. He thinks they are trying to make him uncomfortable? Flustered? If that was what they had wanted to do, then Eita succeeded by saying something particularly lewd while including his succulents in the statement, making his his two other friends laugh and Ushijima’s face turn red. 

And then the chocolate crepes. He and Reon ate their fill while Eita and Kuroo, for some reason, simply stared at the pile, refusing to take any until they were done. Which leads them to the present. 

An eating completion. Twenty-five centimeters of crepes to be eaten as quickly as possible. His mind is torn as to how he should feel about this. He has three options to choose from. One is interested, because he has seen how both Eita and Kuroo eat. And how they react to competition. It would certainly be interesting to see who would win. Two, disappointed. This is bad for their body. They will be consuming too quickly and it could lead to an upset stomach because of minimal chewing. Three… surprised because he really does want to see how this turns out regardless of how the outcome will affect his two friends. 

Once Reon’s last finger lowers, the race is on and Ushijima wills himself to not lean back in his seat or put his hands on the table, just continue to sit there with his hands gripping the cloth of his pants as he watches the two devour at a rate that almost surpasses Daichi and Koutarou when they’re on a binge. 

He misses the consumption of the next four crepes now that he gets Koutarou in his mind. He should text the other spiker. Is he enjoying himself in Miyagi? Have they met up with Oikawa and Akaashi yet or will they be meeting at a later time? Is he starting to feel better? There’s guilt inside of him because he didn’t go with Koutarou or offer an alternative to allow him to recover here, at home. He had forgotten about him for a little bit, choosing to enjoy himself with Eita and Reon while the owlish teen’s mind is in turmoil. 

_ I’ll call on the way to the hotel _ Ushijima thinks, effectively changing his train of thought. 

He hadn’t told Reon or Eita or anyone about his most vital errand of the day. Golden Week, from what he’s heard, is magnificent in Tokyo. The parades are fantastic, the sales and discounts impressive, and the food absolutely magnificent with limited edition items and stalls lining the streets when the festival starts. Because of that last point, Satori’s mentor, Louis, had decided to fly them to Tokyo. 

They’ll spend three weeks in Tokyo before returning to Europe to continue their tour. Satori will spend most of the day with his mentor, tasting japanese sweets and chocolates and working out to burn the calories off so he doesn’t become overweight. At around four he’ll take a taxi to where his best friend is staying, have coffee or tea and chat with the two, and then take Satori back to his home to spend some time with himself, Eita, Reon, and Kuroo before going out. 

Eita hacks on a chunk of crepe. Kuroo laughs at him only to get chocolate up his nose. Reon laughs and Ushijima cracks a small smile as the two have to stop their eating to get rid of their specific ailments, glaring at each other and the crepes. They’re recovery times are only differed by a second or two, chocolate smeared across their faces like the dirt on the faces of people crawling through mud in some of the action movies Ushijima has seen (forced to see). 

Three months ago, he would of stopped something like this. Or he would of gone to his room to read the newest issue of  _ Jump  _ and reread the more interesting advertisement from the older issues. Now, he just watches and remembers his a food safety lesson in the back of his head  _ When a person falls to the ground… _

Eita wins. He wins on the final crepe by lifting a leg up and kicking the side of Kuroo’s chair, making the next bite miss his mouth. Before he could retaliate, Eita had already stuffed the majority of the crepe, pushing his chair back as he stands with a dirtied face and arms raised over his head in victory. 

“NO! YOU CHEATED!” Kuroo screeches, pointing a finger at Eita. 

“No- there were no rule in the first place” Eita grins proudly. 

“You don’t need rules for an eating contest!” Kuroo growls. 

“Exactly.” Kuroo blinks and his eyes narrow even more. His nostrils flare just a little bit, lips pulling back, almost into a snarl. 

“Why you-”

“Kuroo” Ushijima interrupts before something like a fight could break out. Maybe he was wrong to assume that Eita and Kuroo were getting along. “Eita was quite interested in the TV earlier. Perhaps you could put something on?” Kuroo deflates. Eita sends a look Ushijima’s way before turning it back to Kuroo, the two continuing to stare at each other for a few more moments, the tension growing and growing. Even Reon shifts in his seat, shifting his faze to stare at the stray flecks of chocolate that litter the table from their festivus eating. 

“You know what” Kuroo muses, face softening. “Maybe you aren’t really that bad. I think Ushijima was just about to have a freak-out over there.

“Same” Eita gruffs, wiping smudges around his mouth with he back of his hand “But I don’t think he has melt downs.” Kuroo cackles. “Now what do you have on that monster?” 

“Do need any help cleaning?” Reon sighs as Eita and Kuroo fistbump, once again positively acquainted, settling on the couch to flip through and discuss the channels and streaming services available with the plan Kuroo bought for it. 

“There is no need to do anything besides wiping down the table” Ushijima says, taking the two plates now bare of any crepes before his friend could. “The dishes can wait.” He puts the plates in the sink, already filled with dirty soapy water that covers the rest of the utensils from view, the end of a spatula sticking up from the murky sea. Perhaps he should save up a portion of his money for a blender. Then he’ll be able to make his own protein and energy drink and shakes, as well as make more complex sauces. It will also speed up the time it takes to make numerous things. Also… Oikawa and Daichi would be able to make the cold and hot drinks they create at Starbucks in the comfort of their apartment. 

Reon watches him dampen a rag with water, hands hanging uselessly at his sides, fingers twitching, before the sporting goods employee decides to push the chairs in while Ushijima cleans. 

“Are those the rest of your roommates teams? You mentioned they were all on the team but not that they were also National level players.” Ushijima looks up. By then, Reon has already pushed the last chair in and has made his way over to the wall, which was the first part of their home that they actually set up. The TV is showing a science fiction movie. His gaze has landed on the large wall that separates the living room from the outside hallway. The five team pictures hung on the wall with a gap made for what Oikawa had called “a special something” to be hung up from this year. 

“Oh, yes” Ushijima says. He soaks, wringes, then hangs the rag from the tap to dry, drops creating ripples in the murky sink water. The journey to Reon takes him past Eita, who he has to quickly flinch away from so that his side doesn’t get poked. He isn’t ticklish but it does hurt. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget Karasuno or Aoba Johsai” Reon says once Ushijima stands next to him, both of them looking at the photos. “And you also have someone from Fukurodani.”

“Not just someone- captains!” Kuroo calls from the couch. Reon raises an eyebrow. And then his other eyebrow raises. And his eyes widen, lips parting. 

“Captains? That means-”

“Bokuto Koutarou, Fukurodani. Sawamura Daichi, Karasuno. Oikawa Tooru, Aoba Johsai. Kuroo Tetsurou, Nekoma. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Shiratorizawa.” 

“Dude, you just said your own name.” Kuroo says from the couch. Eita snickers. Ushijima keeps his eyes on the photos. 

“Do you get along with Oikawa?”

“Yes.” Ushijima says. “He is just as good a setter as I knew he was.”

“Do I mean nothing to you?” Eita proclaims from the couch. 

“Don’t worry, that’s just about the only thing beneficial about him. I have a photo album filled with pictures and there’s a page dedicated to his strangest outfits of the day. Especially when it’s one of the  _ special  _ days in ET Life. And don’t worry, Ushijima: I’ll tell him about the Policy.”

“Oh hell yes,  _ show me _ .”

Kuroo and Eita abandon the couch to rush to Kuroo’s room. His photo album skills are apparently infamous amongst his Nekoma teammates. Yaku had talked about how he has photos of events no one had even brought a phone to. It could be used as an argument to the existence of magic. Kuroo insists that they not see the pages until the album is complete, but he assumed Eita gets to see the photos he has printed out so far due to not being one of the subjects of the album. Kuroo had said there were only a few more photos left, which is impressive. Albums are big, photos are not cheap to print out. And in only a few weeks times… which pictures exactly has he printed out? Which moments are immortalized? Is every day of their living together to be documented in color?

“What’s the Policy?” Reon interrupts Ushijima’s train of thought. Against Eita’s statement that he doesn’t freak out, he does indeed have moments which could be considered freak outs. Except there are entirely mental and he doesn’t think anyone has noticed them. They do allow him to think about situations differently than he normally would, though. 

“The Policy” Ushijima starts robotically, “is that you are not to tell our underclassmen at Shiratorizawa or anyone about the identities of my roommates. We intend on hosting a training camp during summer break to which each of our schools will be invited to. It is to my understanding that the surprise they will experience at our ironic arrangement on the same team would be amusing to watch.” 

His friend looks at his strangely for a moment before nodding. 

“I see. And this will be before September, I assume?”

“September?” Ushijima asks quizzingly. Reon blinks. “Is there anything important occurring in September?” 

“You’ve forgotten?” Ushijima searches his brain for anything important. The programming on the TV switches to an advertisement. The sound of muffled laughter comes from Kuroo and Bokuto’s shared room. “And this is why I was your emergency contact” Reon mutters. “Wakatoshi, don’t focus too much on collegiate volleyball. You’re going to be playing what could be your final tournament in the U-19 National Team!”

Oh. 

_ Oh _ . 

“Oh.” Ushijima blankely says. He wouldn’t be lying if he said he had… temporarily forgotten about the red jersey with the white number four emblazoned on. The information comes back to him all of a sudden. September fifth to the thirteenth is the length of the Asian Championships. He believes it is being held in Sri Lanka this year. And if they win ( _ when _ \- they will win), they will participate in the FIVB U19 Championship. Argentina has already taken the role as host. Those tournaments will be even better for his volleyball career. The Asian tournament is only four months away. He’s only been excluded from practice for now because he is still practicing volleyball. He will have to go start going after a month, to start getting used to sets that are too slow, reaction times that aren’t quick enough, faces that are too serious in comparison to Bokuto’s smile. 

But, even more important- the summer collegiate tournament is right before the start of summer break. He knows that a continental and then international tournament should be more important to him. That he in the darkness of night with only him on his bed and his phone in hand, he should be looking up the most recent videos of Iran and Taiwan’s volleyball teams instead of rewatching and mentally taking notes on Chuo and Osaka.

“Did you just grumble?” 

Ushijima diverts his attention back to Reon, raising single eyebrow in question. Reon raises a single eyebrow back at him. 

“No.”

“You did, I heard that little sound. I don’t think you’ve ever grumbled before. Exactly what  _ has  _ college changed about?” Reon taps his foot once on the ground, arms crossing over his chest. Ushijima takes the moment to think. 

“Changed” he mutters. “My reaction time for receives have increased.” Reon’s lips press into a fine line. “I have also learned more about fictional Extraterrestrial Life than I would of ever wanted to know. My professor believes that watching a television series portraying such life would be a suitable for education.” Both of Reon’s eyebrows raise slightly. 

“What show?”

“Star Trek.”

He just might of forgotten Reon mentioning a few times in passing his near-obsession with a certain science fiction show after accidentally stumbling upon it on a Japanese-dub channel showing classic english shows. 

By the time Kuroo finishes story telling with Eita an hour later, Ushijima is trapped in a deep conversation with Reon about the show. He used to enjoy spending time alone with the other because he found that the two of them were similar in personality, although Reon is less reserved. Now he is submitting Ushijima to a rant that rivals Oikawa’s. And he still manages to not be overwhelming with his continuous stream of words and almost imperceptible breathes of air that allow him to continue talking. 

Thankfully, Kuroo manages to pull Ushijima out of the discussion by reminding him to call Bokuto or Akaashi and see how they’re doing in Miyagi which leads to him having to isolate himself in his room with the door firmly closed so none of them can listen in with little trouble. His arm almost hits one of his succulents, which he had moved away from the window after millimeter wide dark spots started to appear on the outer edge of one of the leaves. 

He carefully sits on the bed, slipping his slippers off and folding them, making sure that the blanket doesn’t crease. 

He wants to call Koutarou. Mainly because he’s actually friends with him. Akaashi is more like an acquaintance. There is no denying that he is a good manager, a good setter from what he remembers from his second year at Shiratorizawa. He occasionally joins them with their outings but most of his time is reserved for Koutarou. The most important thing he knows about the teen is that he knows all the subtle things about Bokuto, the things that make him tick and make him happy. He may need to ask him for a list later. On another note, he believes the journey to Miyagi was the first time Oikawa and Akaashi were ever alone together. 

But he also doesn’t know what Koutarou’s condition is. And that’s what worries him. Koutarou has always been nice to him and the boy is always quick to make friends. It still bothers him how their chemistry professor so obviously regards Koutarou as someone only athletically capable and not intellectually capable, even though he had showed his intelligence since day one of class. He may not have a lot of friends, the number only having recently becoming enough to need more than two hands to count, but he treasures all of the friends he makes. Koutarou is no exception. 

That’s probably why he disregards the possibility that his call could end up reminding Koutarou of his recently regained memories. 

Phone raised to his ear, hand right hand resting on his knee, he’d greeted by only a single ring, and even that’s cut short, replaced by-

“WAKATOSHI!” Is shouted into his ear, hand twitching the device away from his ear, lip twitching. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up sooner! We have that Pact thingie going on and I was surrounded by a bunch of crows so I just  _ ran _ .” Ushijima frowns, opening his mouth. “But don’t worry! I told Daichi before I left. The food they have is so  _ good _ , but don’t worry- it’s not as good as yours!” Koutarou chirps, but he sounds like how he does in their nighttime meet-ups. It’s not visibly noticeable- Ushijima hadn’t noticed the first few times. It’s the subtle changes, the little things that are so hard to notice and are the signs that something is off. So well hidden, so subtle. Ushijima doesn’t try to think too much about it or else he’s sure he’d find himself worrying more about Koutarou than he already is. 

Quickly, he assesses the situation. Bokuto’s words are just a bit too quick. The crows must be the Karasuno team. Less than two seconds isn’t enough to get away from a team of twelve, excluding managers and coaches and anyone else who might be wherever Koutarou is. Two, Bokuto is quieter. Just barely. And it can’t be attributed to the audio transfer over the phone. But he’s still exuberant, he called him by his given name, and he remembered food. 

His body relaxes. He wasn’t aware his muscles had stiffened. He learns back so that his upper back and head are resting against the wall, pillow pushing against his lower back. 

“So did you sleep good?” Koutarou asks. “Yesterday was weird but your sleep pattern’s even weirder.”

“Not really” Ushijima answers truthfully. 

“So you didn’t sleep? Make sure you get s full night’s sleep tonight! Is that friend of yours coming? Crazy middle blocker guy?”

“Satori?”

“Yeah, him!” Koutarou sounds proud of himself. 

“Yes, he actually is coming to Tokyo. Reon, Eita, and Kuroo do not know. I will be picking Satori from the hotel he and his sensei are staying at.” Koutarou hums on the other side of the line. 

“And you probably made them lunch and everything too already. What did ya make? Imma guess something… European?” The corner of his lip twists up but he doesn’t make a sound. “Okay, european european european” Koutarou repeats until the word sounds strange to his ear. “Italian? NO! Dang it! Please don’t tell me you made pizza  _ without me- _ ”

“French” Ushijima says. “It neighbors Italy, but they’re cuisine is dissimilar.Kuroo and Eita decided to engage in an eating competition. There is a possibility they may become diabetic.” Koutarou squawks out a laugh. “They have developed a very turbulent relationship.”

“So they get along- that’s awesome! Some of the guys here I didn’t really talk with before but all of them are pretty chill. But I have to keep on walking because I  _ swear  _ I keep on seeing orange out of the corner of my eye!” 

Ushijima wrinkles his nose. “Hinata Shouyou” he says. “It is a wise decision to avoid him.”

“ _ Hey”  _ But there’s no anger in the spiker’s voice- he only sounds amused. “I don’t know what you two have against each other, but it’s kind of funny. He’s a ball of sunshine!”

“As well as overconfidence, talentless, very annoying-”

“Okay okay” Koutarou laughs. “Now I know what you think about him. No clue what he thinks about you but from what I’ve heard from Daichi, it’s basically the same. 

Ushijima frowns. “But I’m not overconfident, talentless, or annoying.”

“Ah, no, I meant as in he doesn’t like you too.” Koutarou replies. Any other person would of taken that as an insult, probably. But Ushijima is aware of the strange middle blocker’s feelings towards him, although he is unsure of why the now second year feels resentment towards him. Is it because he is envious of his talent? Did he somehow find it insulting that Karasuno won the match with Shiratorizawa? Or maybe it was something that happened at the prefectural training camp. He will never know because he isn’t concerned with what the child feels about him, regardless of the fact that he is in both Daichi and Bokuto’s favor. Ushijima is not pleased with the fact that in the future, he will have to interact with the infant. 

It is a very displeasing fact. 

“Anyway, it’s pretty nice over here- not as hot as Tokyo and I’m loving it” Koutarou says, changing the topic. “The stars look so  _ pretty  _ here. No wonder Oikawa likes astronomy and aliens so much. With a sky like this” he whistles “You haven’t been telling me nearly enough things, Toshi.”

“The stars do look very nice in Miyagi in comparison to here” Ushijima muses, shifting so that he’s sitting on his pillow. “The science club occasionally held free stargazing events on the weekend. I was often persuaded to attend.” There’s a chorus of loud laughter, muffled by the distance between his room to the living room. 

“I think I’ll ask Daichi if I can do that today” Koutarou wistfully sighs. “Oh, Akaashi if probably arriving soon!” He suddenly perks. “I can take him stargazing too! I wonder what he’s going to think when he sees the stars, oh wait, he’s been to Osaka. Do you know if Osaka has pretty stars? It probably does- it’s such a pretty place from what I’ve seen in the photos.” Ushijima hums. He remembers when one of his national team practice camps were held in Osaka instead of standard Tokyo. He can imane Koutarou lying down on a generic grassy hill, looking up at the sky, with Akaashi, Daichi, and Oikawa at his side. He already has enough fun in their daily five minutes of Extraterrestrial Life class when they have to look up at the sky and see if they can, by chance, spot a UFO. Kuroo usually takes that time to groan about neck pain. Daichi lies down and Ushijima thinks the boy takes a nap, which is probably likely with the less than average amount of sleep he gets per week. The break will be good for him too- he’ll be able to catch up on the sleep his midnight classes take from him. 

“Koutarou” Ushijima asks “Are you doing well?” 

“Yeah! Of course!” The other replies with his usual speed. “I’m feeling so much better than yesterday. But” he hesitates “To be honest… it’s really hard not to think about. It’s a whole set of memories I never  _ had  _ before and all of that just makes me think too much. Daichi’s been really good about keeping me busy, y’know? I almost panicked last night but he let me sleep with him in the middle of the night. And he isn’t treating me super carefully or anything like they do in the TV shows. All of you guys, you’re really good. Like, I love you all. You’re the bestest friends I could ever ask for and it’s weird think how we’ll be like four years down the road when we’ve known each other for more than a week.”

“Agreed” Ushijima says. “It is rather strange how quickly we adjusted to each other.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  
  


Twenty minutes until four, he takes one look out the window, sees the traffic, sees Kuroo connecting an old console to the TV, and says that he has to excuse himself because one of his classmates from Pastry Arts & Baking needed help to make a birthday cake for their mother. They don’t question him. Perhaps he’s finally become good at lying…

Or the three of them are too busy arguing about which port to put the consoles wire into. 

Ushijima jogs down on the side of the crowded sidewalk, just barely managing to evade and dodge people. One of the downsides to Tokyo is that he can’t freely jog without risking running into someone if he goes out after seven in the morning. Miyagi and her empty streets and sidewalks and greenery paints a very tempting scene in his mind. 

It takes him half an hour to jog to the hotel. Before he stopes at they entryway, he unwraps the light jacket from around his waist and puts it on, effectively hiding any sweat stains that would of formed. It is very unbecoming to see your best friend in person for the first time in weeks with sweat stains and its accompanying smell. He is happy he sprayed certain points of the jacket with the can of air freshener. 

He walks through the foyer and lobby like he knows where he is going. He’s been told many times he always walks like he has a purpose. It is very useful when he only has a vague idea of what he is doing. 

He takes the elevator to the third floor, the contraption feeling mildly suffocating with it’s slow speed and ambient music. He reads the signs at the start of two separate hallways and walks down the correct one, stooping in front of door 308. With the spacing between the room’s door and the other doors, he can assume that it’s a very spacious area. 

The door opens before he could even knock. 

“I was right!” Satori croons, mouth lifting into his signature strange but endearing smile. He points a thumb behind him. “I guessed you were going to come on good-ol’-fashion foot after I saw the traffic. I never missed that about Tokyo~” he sings. And then I saw you in front of the hotel and I thought it would take you two minutes and a few to get up here and I. Was. RIGHT!” He cheers, lunging forward to hug the spiker. 

“I believe the proper response to that would be: I missed you too” Ushijima smiles, lifting an arm up to pat his friend on the back. 

In the time that they’ve been separated from each other, Satori has already grown a few centimeters. His bright red hair has grown longer but still holds it’s upward position. His skin is less tan but the expressions on his face haven’t grown duller. 

“Same here.” Satori replies, patting Ushijima’s back once with a hard  _ thump  _ of a hand before separated, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. “Come in, come in! And nice jacket, by the way.” Ushijima frowns, looking down. 

“But it’s my Shiratorizawa jacket.”

“Exactly! It’s a very nice jacket.” The corner of Ushijima’s lip twitches up. Satori reaches past him to close the door before leading him into the hotel room. It resembles a small apartment, with a small kitchen unit, a living room, dining table, and a little hallway with two doors which Ushijima assumes are a bedroom and a bathroom. In the living room, Satori’s mentor, Louis, stands and greets Ushijima. Ushijima gives him a bow. 

“Hello” Ushijima says in probably bad French. He knows Louis knows how to speak Japanese from the video call and Satori’s calls, but he just wants to be polite to the man and give him the chance to speak in his native tongue. The girl he’s station-mates with in European Cuisine is minoring in French because she plans on getting an apprenticeship at one of the high-end restaurants in France or Monaco. So to practice, sometimes when they’re waiting for water to boil or for the sauce to slow cook, she would give him mini lessons on French because one of her best learning methods is a “teaching method”. Ushijima never knew this was a method of studying. Is that how teachers retain so much information?

“ _ Bonjour _ ” Louis replies perfectly, an amused look on his face. “I am comfortable with speaking Japanese. He holds his hand out for Ushijima to shake. “Louis Takahashi. But you say it the other way, yes?”

“Correcto.” Satori says from the kitchen. Ushijima doesn’t know when he left his side for the kitchen, sounds of metal and glass clinking coming from there. 

“Takahashi Louis, but I would prefer if you called me Louis. All I know if your given name, Wakatoshi, but I heard it is impolite to call someone by their given name upon meeting.”

“Ushijima. Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He shakes his hand. Louis motions for him to sit. Ushijima sits in the armchair while Louis takes the sofa. Satori comes from the kitchen with, as expected, a tray with a kettle of tea, a small container of sugar, and three cups. He sets it on the table and pours it for each of them. 

“Thank you” Ushijima says, putting a spoon of sugar in his, shaking it a little to mix before lifting the cup to his lips. 

“So when will you two be leaving?”

“Um, ten, maybe fifteen minutes?” Satori says it like a question, looking at Ushijima. He nods. The tea tastes very nice. It is good to know he still has a taste for it, regardless of his latest liquid streak of chocolate milk and orange juice. 

In person, Louis is even kinder than what he’s heard. He is married with two children, twins, both of whom have just graduated highschool and are now on break before going to college in Amsterdam. Louis is able to explain in more detail about their tour through Europe. They were in Finland the week before last week. The week before, they were travelling down the Baltics, starting from Latvia before travelling through Lithuania and then Estonia, which was where they took their flight to Japan. 

After half an hour, the two boys said their goodbyes and Satori grabs an overnight bag. Satori bounces next to Ushijima once they step foot on pavement. 

“So, Waka-kun. How long is it going to take us to get to your place?” 

“It took me about twenty-five minutes to jog here” Ushijima says. “But I don’t think you would want to.” Satori grimaces. 

“Yeaah. I haven’t done much jogging. A lot of walking, though. So while walking…”

“It’ll take us little over an hour.”

Satori’s eye twitches. 

The traffic was only a little bit better, a little pocket of time when this area of the city isn’t crowded. They take their chances and hail a cab. Five minutes later, the traffic slows again, but they make it to the street his building is on in fifteen minutes. The path the driver had taken took them by the volleyball stadium, which Ushijima had pointed out. He was given a smooth whistle in return.

“Nice place.” Satori whistles. 

“Room 404” Ushijima says, pointing up at a window at the corner of the building. The curtains aren’t drawn, so from the ground, you can just see the two succulents on the sill behind the glass. Ushijima keeps a hand in his pocket so that Satori doesn’t try to steal his key and barge into his home before Ushijima could step foot into the lift. 

“So is Oikawa going to be here?” Satori asks. 

“No. Daichi, Koutarou, and Oikawa are in Miyagi. Only Kuroo is here. He is keeping Reon and Eita entertained.” Satori hums. 

“Daichi and Koutarou? So you’re on a first name basis already.” Ushijima looks at Satori.

“You already know about Koutarou. Daichi prefers to be called by his given name, and I respect his wishes.” Satori nods. 

“Got it got it. So how is this Kuroo person getting along with Reon and Semi?”

“Kuroo was the captain and middle blocker on Nekoma. The one with the strange hair and could block my spikes.” Satori’s eyes widen and the relaxed look on his face gives way to a wide smile. 

“That guy? Oh yeah! I met him on the video call.” He facepalms. “Gods, I’m sorry for forgetting. I’m guessing he and Semi clashed.”

“...they had an eating competition.” He and Satori stand at the end of the hall for two minutes while Ushijima tells him the events of this morning. His friends smile somehow grows wider and wider. Ushijima wonders if part of his face is broken to allow him to smile that much. How much can his lips stretch?

“I  _ really  _ want to meet this guy. He was pret-ty annoying on the court but I can tell we are going to get along fan _ tastically. _ ”

A selfish part of Ushijima wishes that the two of them won’t get along. Kuroo has already developed a potentially chaotic relationship with Eita. He and Satori are too similar, and that could only lead to activities of a certain degree of unlawfulness. He doesn’t quite remember how many times Satori has shoplifted for the joy of being able to get away with it (and he’s never been caught). For how intelligent Kuroo is, when he is in the presence of someone else of the same type as him, both people will have their IQ significantly reduced leading to a myriad of ridiculous and potentially illegal activities. 

Ushijima slides his key into the lock. Satori is the one who actually opens it, using enough force to hang the knob against the inside closet door. 

“Heeey- this is actually a pretty nice place you’ve got” Satori says after a quick second of taking everything in. It seems like the three of them got the console set up, because a game that Ushijima believes is called Mario Kart. He thinks one of friends, after they turned eighteen, travelled to Tokyo and took their Mario Kart tour. Ushijima wonders if he’ll ever partake in it or have the interest to do it. 

“Wha- Satori!” Eita exclaims, quickly turning his head over his shoulder before cursing and looking back at the screen. “Gimme like- ten seconds. I’ve almost wo- DAMMIT!” Reon lets out a low chuckle as he exaggerates the turn of the Wii remote, passing by a shelled Semi after Kuroo, who claimed the first place spot. Eita throws down his remote and stalks towards the redhead. 

“Hey Semi-Semi” Satori grins. The first thing Eita does is punch him in the stomach before hugging him. Satori groans. 

“You-” Eita starts “You didn’t tell us you were going to be in Japan!”

“Wakatoshi knows” Satori smirks. “There’s a reason the world has something known as a surprise” he waves his hands in the air. “So, surprise~!”

“It is good to see you” Reon says with a smile, entertaining the other with a one-armed hug. Then he looks at Kuroo and the two look at each other before nodding. 

“Nice to meet you in person” Kuroo says, holding his hand out. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Tendou Satori” Satori cooly says, taking the other middle blocker’s hand. “I have the feeling that we are going to get together really well.” Kuroo raises an eyebrow, cocking his head so that an eye is covered. 

“Oho- really? And why would you say that?”

“Hm…” Satori taps his chin. “I can feel it. Have you ever heard Wakatoshi try karaoke?” Interest grows in Kuroo’s eyes and he leans forward. 

“I haven’t. Don’t tell me- are we going for karaoke?” Reon holds back a snort and Eita  _ giggles _ .

“Yes. Our reservation is from nine to twelve.” Kuroo’s eyes widen, and Satori and Eita’s faces show unrestrained glee. “We will have to have dinner before that.”

“And will you finally sing, Wakatoshi-kun?” Satori asks, leaning a head onto his shoulder. “We’ve never been blessed by your deep and handsome voice’s vocal range.” Ushijima’s eyes narrow. Even though he always enjoys himself when they go for karaoke, he never actually sings because, truth be told, he’s never really listened to music before this term.

But he just so happens to have roommates who will blast songs ranging from the latest hits to a loop of anime openings on the weekends and when the apartment is too quiet to be comfortable. 

“Perhaps.” He says. Apparently, that is the only affirmation they need. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that somewhere in this chapter, you felt like smiling. If not, just smile- you deserve it!  
> And if you want to simp about Daichi with me or any other things Haikyuu...I made a Discord:  
> 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is going to start with a short snippet from Oikawa’s POV and then change to Bokuto’s. Since pretty much forgot Bokuto week, even though it started on my birthday (I am now old enough to get my driver’s license...yay) I’m pretty much going to try and cram as most or all of the prompts. Try to expect chapters to be posted every week to every two weeks. The last two chapters were posted two weeks apart (length and school playing into that) so that may seem more reliable of a function of posting to mentally do the math for. Sorry- I typed so much fiction, typing my actual thoughts out is making my fingers fumble :)
> 
> Prompts used: Day 1 (hair down), Day 2 (Fukurodani), Day 3 (Domestic), Day 4 (MSBY), Day 5 (Bokuaka [I made it platonic, sorry]), Day 6 (Beach volleyball), Day 7 (Free day). For Fukurodani and Beach Volleyball, I took a little bit of liberty with those so it's only like a mention. And MSBY...but Bokuto's still in college. O holly Rohan, how did you include that? Aha, well my fellow fan, there is such a thing as read the chapter and you'll figure out how
> 
> And because it took me forever to write this chapter since I never had the time (School, I love you, but please tone it down a bit) I, once again, accidentally added quite a bit of angst. So good luck. 
> 
> TW for mentions of past character death

The first thing Oikawa does when the door opens is keep his promise.

Leaving not at midnight turns out to of been a bad idea idea, but he needed to pick up Akaashi-kun. Just by looking at the boy when they met at the station, ten minutes before their train was due to come, he could tell that the eighteen year old (or was he still seventeen?) hadn’t slept at all. His hair was still in it’s strangely handsome-looking messy style, shadows under his eyes, lids covering more of his eyes than usual, and hand holding an empty disposable coffee cup. Even his clothes are slightly wrinkled. The only two things put together about him are the laces on his shoes and his suitcase. 

Oikawa can understand, sort of. He hasn’t known Bo-kun as long as the manager has, but he’s still managed to form a strangely strong bond with the wing spiker. There are only so many things you can go through before finally admitting to yourself that it isn’t just a simple friendship that you’ve gotten. And you better appreciate it instead of pushing it away. 

He hadn’t gotten good sleep, that’s what he’s trying to stay. So he had re-packed his suitcase,  _ then  _ fell asleep. Somehow, Ushiwaka was awake before him when he got up to leave. He wonders how the guy manages to wake up so early. Is he a deep sleeper? Does he take power naps throughout the day? Does he just not… sleep? He didn’t give himself much time to think about him because his former archnemesis had taken one good look at him before turning around and handing him a cup of chocolate milk and a spare milkbread. 

Both he and Akaashi slept on the train ride, and the other definitely looked better when their ride reached its final stop, their destination. 

It was too bright outside, but the taxi fares were relievingly less than the fares in Tokyo, and he was able to sleep even  _ more  _ during the hour-long drive to his house. He wonders how Daichi can stay up as long as he can with his absolutely horrible schedule arrangement. He has a wee bit more respect for the libero. 

His mother and father greet him with a slap, then a hug, then a kick to the shin, a poke to the cheek, another hug, a short lecture about dropping plans all of a sudden without any explanation, and then a hug. 

Oh, and how could he forget? They  _ love  _ Akaashi. Even though he isn’t his roommate. Even though he’s a year younger than him. Even though he’s only the manager. The boy is just much too polite to adults, instantly winning his parents heart and getting an offer of being adopted as an Oikawa.

Then he gave his parents his bags and suitcase, patted Akaashi on the head, and then  _ sprinted  _ across the street. 

Across the street to the Iwaizumi household, basically his second home. 

The door is already opening and he doesn’t hesitate to fling himself at the shorter person that stands on the other side of the doorway. He doesn’t make promises freely- someone once told him that there should be one thing about him that should be trustable, so he chose his promises to always be trustable and keepable. 

And even if he didn’t make the promise, he would of hugged Hajime anyway. 

The other’s arms are quick to wrap around him, tugging him inside, strong fingers gripping the back of his t-shirt. Those strong hands are shaking where they press against his back. He thinks with tears prickling at his eyes, that if this is the sort dependency they have, if this is what happens after a month to the two of them, cracking and nearly falling into pieces, how are they ever going to survive the future?

The answer is that they’ll be able to push through. No matter the difference, no matter if one of them suddenly decides to go across the ocean, no matter the fights they have. They will always have each other. And even though Oikawa is learning how to trust, Iwaizumi is the once who holds his heart and soul in his hands. His best friend. His family.  _ Hajime _ . 

“You bastard” Iwaizumi says, forehead resting against his collarbone. He’s not sad or letting out any pent up emotion. There’s humor in the boy’s voice. He missed him. It warms his heart and he eagerly wonders what he’s going to say. Nothing? Ask why he was so late to come? Who exactly the unfamiliar person being doted on by his parents is? “Who the fuck forces their friends to take Extraterrestrial Life?”

Yeah, they’ll always be fine. 

* * *

Ever since middle school, he’s always played at least a few hours of volleyball a day. With his already energetic personality and amazing amount of energy, he’s able to last a while before tiring. And with the university team, he gets a minimum of fifteen hours a week, more if they have practice matches set up or he decides to chill with any of the bros in the gym, practicing longer, getting better. 

So it really is a change, something different, when he nearly collapses on the couch of the Sawamura household, parts of his clothes hard with dried sweat, clumps of his hair dried together by the neck and ears, body smelling. Daichi has a smile on his face, sinking deep into a worn-armchair which is clearly well-used. 

After spending a few hours with Karasuno, Daichi managed to excuse the two of them from the party. The two adult-adults there had already left, so had the Tsukishimas and Tanakas. Daichi had gotten Oikawa’s address and it turns out that the two didn’t live that far away, only one bus-stop. The three minute ride was relaxing, the roads bumpier then they are in Tokyo, sending strangely comforting jolts through his body. It was also fun- he decides that in the two weeks (two weeks!) that he’s going to be in Miyagi, he’s going to travel by bus as much as possible!

Wakatoshi’s call has been… wonderful. And the time it took him to pick that word doesn’t mean anything bad! Don’t take it the wrong way. It was just so revolutionary, to his brain with its freshly recovered memories, that he has all of these people to care about him. People who would do things for him without asking for anything in return. People who would make their own sacrifices for his benefits, so that he could be happy. When he woke up that morning, somehow managing to weasel his way from under Daichi’s arm without waking the poor sleep-deprived guy up, he told Sawamura-san why he was here. He didn’t really hide anything- it was all the truth. It did feel a bit personal so he stuttered and blushed partway through the explanation, but by the end of it, the kind woman with the same eyes as Daichi had taken one look at him with his heart laid out in front of her, and hugged him.

Oikawa’s parents liked him, he thinks. 

Oikawa was mostly sticking to Iwaizumi’s side. And if he wasn’t, he was chattering with Bokuto, the setter’s mind not running as fast as his own but still managing to keep a good pace. Daichi reinforced his outward image of an honest guy, politely striking up a conversation with the senior Oikawas. He didn’t have to bend a bit to allow them to pat his head easier, and his face didn’t twist with the contact. Oikawa, meanwhile, was showing a small wrapped chocolate into his hand, sending him a wink. 

“So” Oikawa asks, moving to the couch, “How are you liking Miyagi?” Bokuto’s eyes light up. 

“Oh my gods, the stars! They’re so” he waves his arms “pretty! And I love the bus too- it’s so fun!” Oikawa sends him a look. And then his mouth twitches and smiles, not one of those venomous ones he gives the other setters when their serves end up faster and more powerful than Oikawa, when the coach praises them instead of him. This one is pure, that one Bokuto glimpses when he’s having fun, when they’re watching Star Trek in ET class, when… well, right now.

“Of course you would” Oikawa says. “Now you know how  _ I  _ felt when I took the train.”

And then he was finally able to talk to Akaashi. 

Akaashi Keiji. His best friend. One of his best friends (he’s sorry! He can’t really choose between him and Kuroo and now his other new friends are quickly catching up…).

“Bokuto-san” Akaashi says with a strange look on his face. Nervousness. Akaashi his never nervous. All of a sudden, Bokuto feels like wilting, like hunching over and crossing his arms over his stomach or pulling at his hair or doing  _ something _ . Or maybe, he feels like-

He hugs his setter, a one armed hug which pulls the shorter boy closer to him. 

“Hey hey hey- how was the ride? Did you take the bus? You really should!” He exclaims, smoothly twisting so that both of his hands are firmly gripping the side of his friend’s arms. Akaashi’s eyes widen just a little from their usual half-lidded position.  _ He should sleep more _ . Akaashi’s mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out for a moment, as if he were rethinking what he’s going to say. 

“Are you okay, Bokuto-san? Oikawa… he filled me in on what… happened.” The hesitation, that’s not Akaashi. Bokuto tilts his head, biting the insides of his lower lip. He usually doesn’t think about social interactions. He’s  _ supposed  _ to be smart, but he doesn’t really think he is. He almost always acts before thinking (except with volleyball!) but this is a sensitive thing to talk about. He knows it’s hard for him to even  _ think  _ about it. Imagine not knowing for year what your mother was like besides the little shards you remember, photos, and stories from friends and family. And all of that, filtered. Filtered and strained and even  _ lied about  _ so that he doesn’t possibly get triggered, so that he doesn’t do something like his mom did because it was all his fault. Who would he of been if he hadn’t forgotten? Would he of continued ballet? That would of changed how he looks and acts completely. He tries to imagine himself skinnier and with lean muscles instead and he can’t. Would he of been quieter? Would he of had worse sleep? Would he of had no mood swings because he would of always been at a low?

“I’m doing better” he says with a cracked smile that just manages to cover up the images of a body falling, Akaashi’s quick blink stopping the sounds of snapping bones and a body breaking and a life… disappearing. “So uh you’re staying with the Oikawas, right? They so nice!” Akaashi hums keeping his blue eyes on Bokuto. He thinks he’s thinking about something, because he nods to himself before his lips curl into a smile. 

“They are very nice. Iwaizumi-san is also very polite. He seems to have missed Oikawa-san very much. On another note, how were Sawamura-san’s friends like? Oikawa-san told me you bought Hinata and Tsukishima a present. Were you able to give it to them.” Bokuto shakes his head. 

“But I have two weeks!” He grins. “I’ve got two weeks ‘Kashi-” and then his eyes widen with realization and he jumps on his feet. He likes being happy. Being happy is fun. Being happy is distracting. Being happy is normal. He likes being normal. “You, and me, and Daichi, and Oikawa...we’re gonna’ be here for two weeks! Isn’t that awesome!?”

“Yes” Akaashi drawls. “Awesome.”

* * *

The return to the Sawamura household gets Bokuto introduces to Daichi’s twin siblings and his step-father who have a relationship like a real father and son, the differences in their genetics doing nothing to weakening their bond. He’s a nice man- he married into the Sawamura family and gave Daichi a little brother and sister. One of them has light brown hair and the other had black hair that’s less lustrous than Daichi’s. None of them have his big eyes, taking after their dad with more narrow and pinched eyes. They also don’t play any sports but they play volleyball recreationally for fun, one thing they take after their big brother, and they’re in different clubs. 

They also  _ adore  _ Daichi, even though they just started high school. Bokuto is now utterly confused by Daichi’s blandness when talking about his siblings in the car with Saeko. He was probably tired. When they had dinner, Bokuto was forced to sit between Daichi’s brother and his father, the libero sandwiched so tightly by his siblings, extending his elbows would have them bump into the sides of their arms and spill their food (he knows- he saw it happened three time- yes, he kept count- it was very entertaining). 

The parents went to bed first. The little sibling put on their own show on the TV. He and Daichi went up to Daichi’s room where, on the ground, two futons are laid flat on the ground, right next to each other. 

Daichi gets his laptop out of his suitcase, putting it on top of the spinny chair and positioning it in front of the futons. They shower, brush, get changed, and then sit down on the futons for what is going to be a long night. 

“So what do you want to do?” Daichi asks. “My mom told me that they finally got Netflix two weeks ago and never told me, but she gave me the password. Do you know anything good on there?” Bokuto shakes his head. 

“Nah. I’m not too big on TV. I think the only thing I’ve watched since middle school was volleyball videos and Star Trek. What exactly is Netflix.” He already knows what Netflix is, since- like he’s said before- his family likes to spoil him. He has Netflix but it’s pretty much useless. They don’t have any volleyball. But he has watched some anime on there since he doesn’t feel like sitting through the ads at times on the TV. So the part about not watching anything other than volleyball matches since middle school was kind of a lie. He remembers that his mom was really fond of soap operas-

“A match?” Bokuto asks. 

Not even a minute later, the Black Jackals vs the Paper Mills are on. And Bokuto’s hopes and dreams come spilling out. 

“I want to play professional” he thinks out loud. Daichi’s head tilts a bit towards him, indicating he’s paying attention. “I think… I might start after the season ends next year. Or maybe I’ll do both since my schedule is so free. I should probably start form division two or three, I know, but… I want to start at the top. I want to play with people who can really volleyball.”

“Really volleyball” Daichi muses, turning his head all the way so that they’re looking at each other. 

“Yeah” Bokuto says seriously, nodding his head. He picks up his phone and sees that he has a text come in from Wakatoshi. A quick skim of it makes him even happier. It’s a little summary of what’s going on in Tokyo. Apparently, they’re at a karaoke bar and Wakatoshi is very close to either doing something to forcibly get himself out of the place or actually have to go up and sing with his friends rattling the shakers out of time. 

“And theeeen” Bokuto draws out the word so he can concentrate on choosing the write kanji translation of the romaji he typed before sending the message “Right, so, the Black Jackals were one of my options. They sent me an invite to their tryouts but I-”

“Wanted to play for a school team one more time? Go to school?” Daichi offers.

“I wanted to play for someone” Bokuto says with a small smile. And then he throughs his hands up. “And I’m too young to get a job! I don’t want to think of volleyball yet as something I have to be good at to earn money. I just want to play for fun! Imagine me, with a  _ job _ . I could of been an office worker or-or-or an  _ accountant _ !” Daichi is smiling, a snicker coming out of his mouth. “I’d have to wear a suit. My boss would yell at me because the only tie I have is the one Kuroo got me with owls all over it.” Daichi’s cheeks are red, a hand covering his mouth. “And then I’d become homeless because I’d practice volleyball in the rec room! I would dominate the neighborhood team- I would make the neighborhood team a Division 3 team and because it’s still rec, we still wouldn’t get paid and I’d still be a homeless ex-accountant!” Daichi is cackling, clutching his midsection and doubling over the futon. Bokuto joins him. 

“A-a-and” Daichi manages between breathes “You’d bring  _ Akaashi  _ with you- no, he would follow you, and he would bring Kuroo t-t-too” he wheezes a-a-and I don’t know where to go to this I’m sorry.” That just makes the two of them laugh even more. They only start to stop when Daichi fumbles and manages to hit the spacebar, starting the video again. 

The match, of course, is  _ good _ . The captain of the Jackals, Meian, is  _ really good _ . He’s in his late twenties, he thinks, and there’s also a foreigner on the team. Thomas. The Jackals… they quickly became a Division 2 team, hovered there for a bit, and only recently became a Division 3 team. But they deserve it. They  _ are  _ good, even with their larger than usual range of ages. 

But Daichi’s eyes are on the libero in white, darting across his half of the court to go after the ball, already reading the motion of the ball when its just left the hand of a player. It’s expected, though. Bokuto is keeping his eyes on the middle blockers since he does have to improve his read blocking, predicting both where the ball is going to go and thusly how the blockers are going to move to get to it. It’s amazing how the court is- everything has to be in sync, a single second of mistiming costing your team a point and yourself disappointment and guilt. It’s majestic. Magical. 

“So what are you thinking of doing, Dai-chan~?” That quickly gets the spiker’s attention, making his head turn fast enough to metaphorically give Bokuto whiplash. “After you graduate?”

His brows furrow. Bokuto lets him take his time, but he doesn’t look away. He really is curious about what he’s going to do. He was pretty indecisive of his major, and if his plethora of classes are any indication, he’s trying to persuade himself that that’s what he wants to do. 

To be honest, he would of expected Daichi to become something like a police officer rather than an electrical engineer. But that was  _ before  _ all of this. The guy can do anything as long as he puts his mind to it. The applies to Kuroo and Oikawa. Wakatoshi… is like one of those people who are instinctively good at a lot of things. Not good good, but passable good unless he really tries with it. His food is really good too but just like himself, with all of his future degrees, he doesn’t see the other as anything other than a volleyball player. A spiker who’s already so good, he’s just going to get even better and better. Better than most of the guys on this court, experience being the only thing holding him behind them.  _ Like a monster _ he thinks. All of them, little monster’s who defy expectations. And the more ironic thing is that they have the backstories to go with their titles. 

_ We can be the monster generation  _ he thinks. He really hasn’t seen anyone play volleyball better than the people he played in high school. Sakusa Kiyoomi of Itachiyama Institute, the top ace in the nation even though he was just a second year. The Miya twins, instinctively good with crazy reflexes and the ability to pull off even Karasuno’s god-like quick on their first try. Kageyama and Hinata- they’re going to become brilliant. Tsukishima- he’s going to be a mini-Kuroo. And there’s so many others that he can name: Daishou (even though Kuroo would be angry at that), Hoshiumi, Komori. It was such an honor, being able to play with and against the best of the best. 

“I don’t really know” Daichi says in a slightly strained voice, breaking Bokuto’s nostalgic train of thought. “I don’t really like thinking about the future- when I was little, I’d never let my parents talk about me becoming an adult or death. It’d make me cry.” He lets out a little laugh. “And when I was in puberty, when my parents would put on music from their childhood, I would start crying because I would get an image of  _ myself  _ with a faceless family listening to-to-”

“Baka mitai?” Bokuto offers. 

“Exactly!” Daichi says with a sad smile. “And now… what I do now decides my future. I don’t want the stress of all of that. In school I was good at a lot of things- that’s how I got my scholarship.” Bokuto frowns. 

“You got it because of volleyball.” 

From the laptop, the Jackals fail to block a ball, giving the Mills the set. The video quickly cuts off to the start of the next set, skipping over the time when the two teams would be having their break and the ads would be playing. 

“Daichi” he warily starts. “Aki was an idiot.” His heart pulses in his throat. “He...was wrong. You’re awesome. People, they shouldn’t judge like that.”

“I know” Daichi softly says, a brush above a whisper. Then his face steels itself and he looks back at the laptop screen. There’s a guardedness behind his eyes. “I’ll be fine. It’ll come to me one day. Watch the match.” And that’s when, with a jolt, Bokuto realizes that he’s never noticed the transition before. He stares at Daichi for a few revolutionary seconds and he has to stop himself from shaking his head. He knows that Kuroo might be hiding something- probably embarrassing. He knows how Oikawa acts when his knee is starting to act up. Ushijima hides his thing in plain sight and doesn’t really keep it under cover, so Bokuto can really only help him. But Sawmura honest-and-supposedly-truthful-but-also-mischievous Daichi. He  _ knew it _ \- no matter how much he didn’t want it to be true (that sounds so dramatic), he’s horribly prideful of the fact that he wasn’t just emphasizing in his mind how horrible that part of the day was, and that it didn’t affect Daichi at all because he was so strong. 

“Hey, Dai- I’m going to call you Dai. Every time I was upset or sad, my sisters would always call me “Kou”. One of them took psychology so they actually know the nitty-gritty behind why we like nicknames-”

“Belonging” Daichi answers automatically. “They’re usually used to signify belonging. Inclusion, in a group. Usually.”

“Dai-chan, then. We’re going to stick with that.” He resolutes. Daichi gives him a look before looking back at the screen. His jaw is tense, eyes blinking algorithmically. “It’s the only one I could think of! And Oikawa already shortens our names with  _ chan  _ so” he internally winces at his word fumbled “I’d be Kou-chan! And Kuroo would be Tetsu-chan and Wakatoshi would be Toshi-chan. It’s just like you said- nicknames mean inclu-no,  _ belonging _ . Whatever good come to you, Dai-chan, you deserve. Just like how I would deserve it and Kuroo would enjoy it and enjoy would enjoy it!” He takes a deep breath. 

“I remember, when I was little, after my mom died, I was sent to a therapist. All I had to do was talk. I used to talk about my mom a lot, her final moments. How she only hated me as she fell down down a bunch of floors.” Daichi’s head turns, eyes widening. The steel is replaced with warmth and concern. He reaches a hand out. 

“Bokuto” he starts “Why are you-” but he’s cut off by Bokuto’s look.  _ Gotcha _ . Daichi swallows. “Kou-chan” he says and the syllables are so audibly awkward coming out of his mouth. 

“Talk.” Bokuto says. “I’m talking. So, right- the therapist. I think all of a sudden I jus started talking about how my day was and stuff and I was energetic instead of quiet and traumatized.” With perfect timing, the Black Jackals fans in the stands of the game in the video start cheering. He’s quick to whip a hand across air and press the spacebar, pausing it once again. “The days before my mom’s death and the day she dies, how she died- they’re picture perfect. But the days  _ between  _ losing her and then losing those memories, I only have a few of those. And I know, somehow, I’m never going to get those memories back. And I don’t want to- the few I got, some of them have my sisters and my pops. They always looked so worried and careful. I don’t want them to be like that ever again.”

“So that’s why you’ve never called them” Daichi slowly says. Bokuto clicks his tongue and points a finger gun at Daichi. 

“Correct.” But even as he says that, he feels a surge of darker emotions that are always dragged along ever time he recalls those memories. “And there’s also… two days isn’t enough to get over how your mom died.” Bokuto says. “I-I, right now, I feel guilty. I’m making you talk to m, I’m over-exaggerating how I feel, and for the past two nights I can’t get her yells and the blood and her body and the sound of that  _ car  _ out of my head” he threads his fingers through his hair, rooting them there “And it’s so scary” his voice reduces to a whisper. His hands slide down to rub at his eyes. “There. I went ahead and spilled everything, now it’s your turn.”

Daichi bites his lower lip. 

“Kou-chan” it still sounds so awkward “I don’t need to talk about it. It’s been a month. I’m over it.  _ You _ , thought, you-”

“Get to sleep with you, the space heater, for the next two weeks because of said nightmares” Bokuto smugly says. “You’ll be happy to know that I didn’t get any after joining you. You’re a good cuddler.” Daichi’s cheeks paint red. Bokuto chuckles. “So go ahead, talk about.” He sees the libero send the paused laptop one last longing glance before shifting so that he’s sitting facing Bokuto. 

“I…” he lets out a laugh “Don’t know how to start.”

“Just talk.”

“I know  _ that _ . But...this is funny, for me. I’m the one who’s taking a psychology course. We should be doing this the other way around.”

But then you never would of talked about it. I bet you’ve been holding everything in for the past few weeks. You’re strong, Daichi, but not that strong. No one is. You need to let some people help take the weight off of your shoulders once in a while. You probably haven’t even texted about it to anyone. Do  _ your  _ parents know?”

“No.” Daichi rubs the back of his neck. He closes his eyes, taking a few deep breathes before opening them again. The light from the laptop reflects off his skin in the relative darkness of the room. “It was...like a nightmare. At the moment. It didn’t feel like something that would happen. It was like something that would happen in the book: it’s something that sounds like it could happen in real life but rarely doesn’t.

“I’ve always had a lot of doubts about myself. I was forced to become a captain early on. Third year of middle school, second and third year of high school. And all the kids, they’d respect me so much. We’re close, we’re all friends, but I’d gotten so used to being in that position, even though there were parts of it I didn’t like. It was up to me to control everyone. Any mistake we made, I felt like it was  _ my fault  _ because I taught most of them a lot of what they know because we didn’t have a coach for the longest time. So that means I even had to teach myself because everyone had to rely on me. That’s why I’m good at defense- because everyone loves offense. That’s where the action is. That’s where the points are scored. They focus too much on that and not nearly enough on defense. 

“And to have all of that, all of those memories, thrown away and deemed useless. That I was useless. That everything I’ve done, it never mattered.” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “That realization was the worst. And I ran. I didn’t want to think about it anymore and in the moment, you’re right- I didn’t want to be strong. And I broke, I had a panic attack. That was new- a panic attack. It was scary. 

“But the next day, that made everything better. It was like the world new that I had a bad day, something that I would carry with me for a long time. Because even now I’m not as confident as I used to be. I find myself calculated too far in advance, analyzing everyone’s moves. Ever ball I can’t reach, every ball I miss, I fumble, I fail to get to a player- it just keeps on building up. But Ushijima, of all people, he carried me on his back. Koushi came all the way from Miyagi. We met Aki and Hideyoshi. We had more icecream. All of that, it was probably the most  _ free  _ I’ve been in a really long time. 

“One of the reasons I took as many classes as I did, to be honest, wasn’t so that I would have less next term. A lot of them are electives, extra classes, more things to learn and more things to do to make myself think that I’m not being useless. And it’s helped- it keeps my mind busy. But it’s also taking its toll on me. Sometimes I don’t get time to eat. I’ve lost weight, I’m pretty sure. I don’t get the proper amount of sleep each night. My assignments pile up and I find myself a moment from a break down in the study room. And then I have to keep Oikawa from acting out too much in some of our classes, I have to try and warn Ushijima when he’s about to take something literally instead of the way its supposed to be taken. And then there’s whatever Kuroo does- even I can’t track whatever new thing he’s up to even though I sit  _ next to him  _ in some of our classes. It just becomes too much someti- a lot of the times. And… a-and that’s it.” Daichi ends, sucking in a lot of deep breathes. “Dammit, you’re here so I can take care of you, not the other way around.”

Bokuto fights to give him a sympathetic look through the thoughts that are one flooding his brain, the new information that he needs to process. 

“You’re going to have two weeks to take care of me” Bokuto says. “In this boring little town. I may get worse, I may get better. Who knows? But this is also vacation. Go ahead and relax. Forget about your responsibilities. And you were going to have to trust me one day- I’m going to be living with you for the next four years!” Daichi sniffs. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” He rubs at the corner of his eye. “Thanks. I...guess I really needed to vent.”

“And- hey. You said you don’t know what you’re going to do in the future” Bokuto says. “Why not continue this support system?It seems like we’re going to be stuck together for a while, why not extend it?” Daichi looks shocked. 

“Are you trying to ask me out?” Bokuto’s eyes widen and he waves his arms in front of him.

“No no no! Dai-chan,  _ whyyyyyyyyy _ . No, I mean, how about after we graduate. Or when we’re still in school, I’ll go where you go and you can also go where I go. You love volleyball. I love volleyball. Why don’t we continue playing volleyball? Imagine!” He stands on his feet, flexing his biceps. “ _ Me _ , the indomitable ace” then he points at Daichi “And  _ you _ , the spiker who never lets a ball get past him. We would be indestructible! And I’m pretty sure Wakatoshi and Oikawa are going to go pro- we can drag them too! And I’ll force Kuroo to come too- he can work two jobs!” 

  
All through that, his own smile is growing bigger and bigger and Daichi looks amused, looking up from where he remains sitting from the ground. 

“We would be horrible” Daichi says. “Our coach would kick us all out. And imagine if one of us didn’t make it- then the rest of us would drop out and try again on a different team.”

“Exactly!” Bokuto points. “We’ll make all of us so dependent on each other, we will never be able to escape the toxic relationship we’ve built up. It’ll be so much, we’ll have to buy a big mansion or something so we can live together. Then Wakatoshi can continue cooking for us and we won’t have to saw the TV in half so both Kuroo and I can keep it!”

“And what about if I wanted to start a family, if I met someone. What then?” Bokuto doesn’t hesitate to answer that.

“She’ll like with us! You, your wife, your kids. They can live with us too! It’ll be like this one big huge family and they’ll have their uncles with them at all times and we can be like cousins!” Daichi smiles even brighter. 

“That’s… chaotic. And fun. But I’m also not-”

“And for volleyball” Bokuto cuts himself off “I thought this out earlier- we’ll ge the monster generation! We’ll destroy everyone that comes in our way. We’ll make ourselves so famous-”

“Bokuto, you got something wrong-”

“And we’ll get so many offers form so many teams and- oh! We can probably go to the Olympics and th-”

“ _ BOKUTO”  _ Daichi says loudly, looking like he’s about to break down in laughter and melt into a puddle of joy. “You got a certain part of that wrong. I’m not ever going to get a wife. I’m not straight.” Bokuto blinks at him. 

_ Oh. Kuroo was right, then- Daichi is a very deceiving person.  _

“Oh, my bad. Then you’re kinda like me! Oh, you know what? You can marry Kuroo! Then you can  _ definitely  _ stay in the same house and you’ll never leave each other and-” he’s stopped abruptly by Daichi  _ snorting _ . Honest to gods, he’ll go to the shrine ten times a day- a singular, small, snort. 

“Oh my gods, just stop it” Daichi laughs. “So many people think I’m straight, it’s so funny to watch. And now there’s you too, and Kuroo apparently, and I already know Oikawa is also gay. Poor Ushijima. The singular-”

“Straight guy? Yeah, no. He’s gayer than all of us. He’s gone on a singular date with a guy to a beach volleyball court.”

“That…” Daichi purses his lip. “I did not see that coming. When did you get close to Ushijima?” Bokuto waves his hand. 

“I’ve found the time.” He plops back on the ground. “So what I’ve been trying to say all along: you like volleyball. Volleyball likes you back. Go play volleyball! I love volleyball, I want to play it forever, but I know that teams are always going to look for the younger players. You can retire anytime you want and then pursue what interests you. There- now you have one idea of what you can do so you don’t freak out about thinking about the future.”

He sees the moment when the other finally processes all the words. His muscles relax, his shoulder curve forward a bit into a more natural position. His eyes look brighter. 

“And you also gave yourself some more options” Daichi says. “You said you like pro teams… what do you think about the Black Jackals?”

“Wakatoshi also got an invite to tryout” Bokuto says. “But if we went, we wouldn’t of known ach other outside of the court. Personally, I think my first pick would be the Schweiden Adlers. I think their uniform would look good on me. And eagles are closer to owls than jackals. What about you?”

“...The Sendai Frogs may be calling my name-”

“No! Daichi! Don’t leave me!”

The Black Jackals win the game with a backrow toss from the libero. Bokuto sends Wakatoshi a list of songs he may be able to sing, with Daichi inputting some titles of his own before turning off the laptop, Bokuto sending and receiving a good night tet from Akaashi. The two of them then wiggle under the blankets, Bokuto only managing to hold out on his own for a full three minutes before he schooches so that his head is resting on Daichi’s shoulder, a feeling of safety overcoming him and relaxing his brain. 

_ I wonder why Kuroo hasn’t texted me yet _ ….

* * *

When he wakes up, his phone has a few notifications from some of his apps, but nothing else. He gets some calls from Konoha and Washio. He goes with Daichi and siblings to a sand volleyball court, which his little sister insists on calling beach volleyball. Lunch has them splitting up for a few hours: Daichi to learn a few moves from Nishinoya, and Bokuto to a nice cafe with Akaashi, the two of them exploring the foreign town on their own, some of the differences in vocabulary thanks to dialects causing them to stumble once or twice. 

Other than that, it’s a nice day. Nice weather, nice stars. He sends Kuroo a picture of a scruffy black kitten he sees crossing the road, but when he checks WhatsApp right before sitting down for dinner, the two checkmarks are grey, meaning that the middle blocker has gotten the picture but hasn’t opened the app and read the message. Bokuto frowns, and gets an idea. 

He goes on a spamming spree. 

Of owl facts, specifically. 

This continues for another day. 

It’s his third night in Miyagi when he gets the phone call from Wakatoshi and an explaining of what’s happening. 

“I’ve called and informed Oikawa already” Wakatoshi says. 

“Here, give me a moment-” he lowers the phone from his ear “Hey, Daichi? Come here, you need to hear this.” He puts it on speaker. “Okay. Wakatoshi. Go...go ahead and restart what you were going to tell me, okay? Daichi’s here too.”

And just like that, another piece falls and Bokuto wonders what is wrong with his own and his roommates karma for their lives to be so shitty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter! Tokyo! With! Ushijima! And! Kuroo!
> 
> I haven't written the next chapter yet but I put little bullets in my google doc about what I want to include in it so I don't forget. The chapter can be divided into seven parts. Yes, it is probably going to be a logner chapter than this one. I'll be back in another two weeks, probably. Now I'm off to take my AP Bio notes on, what is it- organelles, membranes, and cytoskeleton components? Ughhhhhhh. Wish me luck


	23. Omake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have breached 100,00 words with this chapter (I now have the fingers of god)  
> Have some more Daichi emotional whump as a peace offering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;-; How long am I making this fic? INFINITELY LONG
> 
> Technically this both does and doesn't happen in this series? I felt bad that all of you have to wait a goddamn month for another chapter, since I'm playing the fair-and-square game with Whumptober and writing each fic the day it's assigned or binge-writing them on the weekend because, well, school. If you follow me and have seen my other fics' ANs, the you know that my life is pretty hectic, I've got too many WIPs to be sane (and somehow I maintain them?) and I really love this fic and the captains. I wrote this omake both to refresh for all of you what happened in the earlier chapters (since it's been so long) and also so that you get a new chapter and I can check-off (Chekov from Star Trek is a good boy) Day 23 of whumptober which this chapter somehow met the criteria for ^_^ enjoy!

Homework was becoming too much too quickly, class kept on ending late, and his professors just _loved_ having him stay back and talk to them about stuff because he was actually a good student and _what is he supposed to do to get some sleep around here_?

It’s not that he doesn’t have the time- it’s just three weeks into university, into practice with his new team, and his body is starting to turn on him. It’s as if his brain is _adapting_ to functioning without sleep. And maybe he would of been fine with it so that maybe, just maybe, he could stop yawning and zoning out for minutes at a time at the dead of night when he’s trying to work on his essay with the laptop light burning his eyes. Except for the fact that his body is crying for sleep at every waking moment. Pleading.

  
And it’s only day number _two_ , entering three, Daichi solemnly thinks. And he doesn’t mean like an hour or two of sleep, but zero. Zero sleep while being able to be productive when he should be asleep but barely able to pass himself as alright and functional when awake. It’s a Thursday night. Once again, this is the one of two days a week (three if you include the absolutely horrible and pointless Extraterrestrial Life class) when his schedule is bad. For some reason, he decided on taking two late-night classes on the days he doesn’t have evening practice. Bad idea. He’s found himself passing out at random moments, blinking only for everything to be different to disorient him. But he can never actually sleep and that alone makes him want to pull his hair out in frustration.

College is surpassing all his expectations at this point. For one, he never imaged himself going anywhere other than Sendai University before he got a letter to a university to Tokyo. He’s just going to ignore his current state of immense sleep deprivation and move on to the next unexpected point of his roommates (more like housemates, since the dorms are more like little apartments) of not one, not, two, but _four_ people who he actually knows. And they all play volleyball. And they were all captains. And now they’re stuck on the same TV and sleeping location.

Once the last two nights he heard Ushijima and Bokuto getting up in two in the morning or something. He didn’t really care at the time, too busy further ruining his eyesight by staring at his laptop screen. He got to listen to some of Oikawa’s Symphony of Snores No.42. He was able to do some homework, make his essays more detailed than they had to be and filled with paragraph long rants. He tried to read through some of his textbooks and learn advanced concepts so he’d be ready when they’d come. And when the sun finally started to rise and shine through the thick curtains, it’s then that he’d feign waking up, going to the bathroom before everyone else, and using Oikawa’s makeup to cover the shadows under his eyes. He’d think that maybe if he tried to ask them for help, maybe tell someone like Bokuto or Ushijima about his situation, then they could help him actually rest. But he barely knows most of them. And even though he knows Kuroo the best, it seems like the friendship they formed at training camp and the days until their final match at Spring Nationals has been reduced to a small pile of dust with the permanent introduction of Kuroo’s “Brokuto” into the picture. And even with the surprising amount of emotionally intimate moments that have happened since his arrival...he still can’t help but see them separate from himself.

Bokuto Koutarou, fourth ranked high school ace. He’s energetic, easy to get along with, surprisingly understand, and even more surprisingly, he’s very intelligent in contrast to his outward behavior. Kuroo Tetsurou, one of the best (if not _the_ best) middle blocker Daichi has gotten to meet in person. A nerd, crafty, very-street smart, and has a wicked memory. Oikawa Tooru, the best high-school setter in Miyagi and one of the best in the nation, self-declared rival force to Karasuno during their third-year. Ushijima Wakatoshi, third ranked high school ace with a cruel serve, intense gaze, and an all-around skilled player whose _also_ stupidly smart, probably because Shiratorizawa is also an academically prestigious school.

What he’s trying to get at is that they all stand separate from him. They’re strong. They’re of the same type- different cloths, different threads, different _everything_ , but the same style, the same atoms. Daichi, on the other hand, he’s lucky that he knows them. He’s lucky he’s in their presence, that he can play with them, that he can look from the side and watch them shine while he sinks back into the concrete. Even though they talk to him, even though he’s seen Ushijima smile, he still distances himself when he can, takes a step back when he’s too close, and smiles and hides away when he sees the four of them together. Because _that’s_ the right picture- he’s more than happy that he at least got to be the photographer.

He holds back a yawn as he turns his phone on to check the time just as the professor dismisses them. It’s so _ironic_ that psychology is one of his two late-night courses. One of the first things he was taught in an attempt by the professor to improve everyone’s sleep is the effects of sleep deprivation: After three days, your ability to think is limited, it’s hard to do things like multitask, remember small details, and pay attention. And, of course, emotions are effective. But not for him! Nope, he is not cranky and upset and near manic with how much he just wants to sleep and he _swears_ he’s going to cry because of it (for some reason, he criticizes his ability of not using words other than _sleep_ to describe _sleep_ in his brain- he should be thinking with variety, like shutting off brain function or dying, but not dying).  
  


Class runs late. By thirteen minutes (it’s an omen, he hears Koushi say in his brain. Shut _up_ ). He thinks he’s officially made it into day three of sleep deprivation. Is it something to celebrate? He packs his bag and trudges back to his apartment. _Nah_.

The “dorm buildings” are relatively small in terms of how many groups are held per floor, with there being four living quarters per floor, he guesses one could call the mini-apartments. He’s pretty sure that there’s no one living full-time in the three other housing units down the hall (that’s a good word to use- good job, Daichi). Sometimes he sees people go in. They’re mostly leaving when he spies them. He once asked the young woman manning the lobby of the building- he had been right with his assumption that they only live here part time because they live in Tokyo, so they often switch between home and the dorms depending on if they feel like cooking their own food or not, out of a variety of reasons.

Nice.

He wonders if he’d get better sleep at home.

He adjusts his bag. It’s already 2:00 because he got lost a bunch of times (that’s a first) on the dark, sprawling, city-like campus. He also almost collapsed even more than that and as a test, he sat on the ground about ten minutes ago, leaning against a trashcan, curiosity winning him over to see if he could get some sleep.

Alas, no.

So he was forced to walk back to the stupid building with the stupid elevator that doesn’t work past twelve in order to keep students from going out and drinking, so he has to _climb_ up the stairs with lethargic legs and-

He trips. At the bend halfway up the stairs between the third and fourth floors, _so close_ , he trips and lands on the large flat area of space of the bend. For some reason, his body just doesn't want to get up. His muscles weakly twitch as he stares at the next set of stairs, eyes naturally landing on them, left cheek turning cooler as it remains pressed against the ground. If his body doesn’t want to get up, then he won’t. He lays there and even though it’s not comfortable at all, only mildly relaxing with his bag is digging into his side and his phone vibrating in his, and he can see the walls becoming more and more visible as the sun starts rising? He doesn’t really know-too much details. He turns his head after what he thinks is a few seconds (so does that mean the sun rose in a few seconds? Was his phone broken? Had he roamed for longer?), glimpsing the brightened window out of the corner of his eye. Oh yes- he has practice. With that realization, he tries to get up but finally, _finally_ , his eyes decide to close on their own accord, fluttering shut, promising him comfort and warmth and-

And he forces himself up his feet and continues trudging up the stairs. He opens the door and his mind freezes and maybe passing out _would_ be a good option because Bokuto and Ushijima are there getting ready for their daily jog, Bokuto getting up from where he had been knelt, tying his shoes. They stare at him for a few moments and Daichi, just like how Bokuto sometimes forgets how to hit crosses, forgets how to lie. He forces his facial muscles to pulls his lips into a smile, keeping his teeth firmly pressed together before he talks.

“I was at the library” he brightly says, probably too loudly. “Had to get a book for today's lesson in psychology.” He moves past the two. He misses Bokuto’s frown and the twitch of Ushijima’s eyebrow up as they momentarily turn around to watch him return to his room. .

“But you just had psychology.”

By then, noise has turned into a continuous drone. Daichi grabs random clothes from his room, throwing his bag onto the ground with a _thump_ , not caring about Oikawa asleep in his bed, before marching to the bathroom, locking the door, and stepping into the shower, putting the water on the coldest setting. He lets out a gasp that gets lost in the drone, staring at his clothes as they turn transparent with the water, sticking to his body. His teeth chatter and his mouth opens, a small noise exiting. A light chuckle. _What am I even doing_? The chuckle turns into a laugh which turns into a sob that’s the only thing that permeates the drone like the edges of a radio signal.

* * *

Something is wrong. Something is _so wrong_. Of course it takes the coming of the fourth day (middle of the third?) to realize this. He can’t actually sleep but he feels himself “passing out” more and more often. Middle of class. During lunch. He’s just lucky he hasn’t been caught yet, his thoughtless staring assumed by all to simply be him being in immense thought and having to fib his way through questioning.

Everything seems like so much. Friday. Volleyball. Right. He makes it through volleyball since, thankfully, he’s doing stretches and yoga with one of his senpais so that his body can become much more flexible for his enforced position of libero. A few times he thinks he heard Koushi, Asahi, or Kiyoko whispering words of encouragement, only to be thoroughly disappointed when he opens his eyes after the burn in his muscles grows too much to empty air.

The strangest part was when after having lunch, he went to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. And then he thought: _This isn’t me_ . Daichi stares at the _thing_ in the mirror. It looks like it’s made of wax, a sculpture- no, a doll. Eyes of glass, glint of white from its slightly parted mouth pieces of sun-dried paper glued to a flat something. _Move your left leg_ a thought clearly says in his mind and as if it were a command in a line of code, his leg does that. _Turn to the left_ it echoes in his head and that, _that’s_ the end of the line. Everytime he tries to move, it just continues like that. It’s like one day you start squeezing your eyes shut quickly and tightly randomly and it becomes a habit and you know that you used to _not_ do that and it scares you when you really think about your newly formed habit, but you can’t do anything about it.

Move this there, move that here. The sequence continues and loops until he finds himself in the room he shares with the grand king, skipping class for the first time, having no idea how he got to his room in the first place. _Eyes widen_ his mind tells him. _Body trembling starting_ . _Stop thinking_.

It must be fate that Oikawa is always the one to find him. Running away from a meeting? Oikawa. Breaking down over the phone? Oikawa. Whatever the fuck is happening to him now? Oikawa.

It happens an hour past the start of evening practice. Daichi is reeling back from having just thrown up in the toilet for the second time, control of his mind just really starting to come back to him instead of feeling like something more akin to a vivid dream. Forehead sweaty and hair pasted together, his throat burns from regurgitating everything again after another binge-eating session, shaking hands taking in the command _move-_

“ _Daichi_!?”

* * *

He discussed it with the rest of them already- something is up with Daichi, as in something is stressing the guy out or something, Oikawa thinks. Is he being bullied? Are people mistreating him? Did he run into that jackass again? He knows for sure that Daichi didn’t return home that morning, his excuse to Bokuto and Ushiwaka about waking early and going to the library being a lie. That was the thing that confused him the most- well, it didn’t confuse him first, he just took it as Daichi being a bad lier, but then Kuroo said that Daichi was a surprisingly good liar. So for him to use such an obvious lie while looking and sounding so fake, it’s an obvious sign that something is wrong.

Now only if he could figure out what _exactly_ those signs are trying to lead him to.

So he talked to some people that are in Daichi’s post-lunch classes. None of them had anything on Daichi except for one thing: For the first time, the guy missed class. And then he doesn’t show up to practice? It was enough to stir too much worry and fear for him to wait another hour or two to get the answer to.

Something is suspicious. So he volunteers to check and see if he’s at home, if he fell sick or anything. And that god Oikawa’s mind running with what sort of diseases have been going around and if he is going to catch it from the libero. And then his mind running turns into his body running because right, Daichi missed his classes too and what if something bad actually happened to him? Like he collapsed? Ran into a mugger or murderer? Got run over and left for dead?

“Yoo hoo~! Dai-chan!” He calls too quickly and too loudly upon bursting into their home only to get no reply. He stands there, catching his breath. Maybe Daichi is asleep. Maybe he’s listening to music! He tries to think positively. Daichi does get pretty distracted when he’s eating, being so fond of food. So he goes to the kitchen first. And then he stops. And frowns.

He tilts his head back and frowns at the litter of messily opened snack wrappers, dirtied spoons, three mostly empty ice cream containers which he recognizes because he bought them yesterday, crumbs and liquids scattering the countertop and floor, two protein shake bottles, three tupperware containers with the remains of who knows what, the dinner that Ushijima made taken out of the fridge but left unopened, half a chocolate bar, a scattering of raw coffee beans (why?), and a six-pack of beer with two of the cans confirmed to be empty with a shake of it. He looks at the chocolate bar, being the easiest to get clues for _what the heck happened here_ (or maybe he’s craving chocolate for some insane reason) only to see that the bar wasn’t split first into the squares they’re engraved into. Oikawa _knows_ Daichi prefers eating them square by square, starting slow before speeding up, but the bar has bite marks on it. As if he just went _nom nom nom_ on the chocolate like Bo-kun does.

Wait wait- better yet, there’s _beer_ . Daichi isn’t even close to twenty! How did he even get _beer_? Why is he drinking beer? Is someone else here?

His train of thought is interrupted by a sound from the bathroom. He grabs the closest weapon- a rolling pin from the drying towel- and walks close to the bathroom, raising the wooden stick as he reaches a hand to open the door.

He sees Daichi, first and foremost- he’s sure it’s Daichi and not some random intruder who ransacked their refrigerator and freezer. Diachi, he looks… horrible. His forehead and clothes are sweaty, hands tightly gripping the sides of the toilet. The obvious sounds of retching comes again and Daichi gasps for air, lifting his head up from where it’d been hanging to lean back against the wall, hands shaking and moving to his biceps, where there are harshly scratch lines of red, blood beading from them, and his fingers curl and the only thing Oikawa things is that they’re going to go back to those light scabs and open them again and _no_.

_“Daichi!”_ Oikawa exclaims in shock, rolling pin clattering on the ground. He lunges forward and drops to his knees, selfishly happy his kneepads cushion his fall. He grabs Daichi’s hands and they’re too warm and shaky. “Hey, Daichi, what’s wrong?” He swallows, stroking the short strands of hair back away from his forehead. His skin is burning. So he _is_ sick, but that doesn’t explain why there was so much food out. No matter how much the other loves food, he never eats that much so suddenly!

“Oikawa?” Daichi rasps, voice so raw and weak. And then, suddenly, there are tears coming out of the outside hitter-turn-libero’s eyes, glistening drops trailing down his face. _Now_ Oikawa is scared.

“Hey hey hey- what’s wrong?” He his feet slide out so that he’s sitting on the floor, wrapping his arms around the crying man. “Tell me what’s wrong. Do you need to call that guy again or someone? Is it the stress? Are you depressed? D-do you have a-a” he stutters, mind quickly pulling up the memory from his first year of the horrible thing categorized into three “an eating di-”

“I think I’m going crazy” Daichi’s breath hitches, voice muffled from where he has his face pressed against Oikawa’s shoulder. “I haven’t been able to sleep in the past three-four, something days and it’s like time’s skipping and-and I can’t even _remember_ coming back home!” He cries. “And I looked in the mirror and it was like I was looking at someone else standing in front of the mirror instead of me and I feel like a stranger in my body and everything is becoming too much and I can’t focus and _everything is just_ ” Daichi continues to ramble. Oikawa can only blink.

“You haven’t slept, in _three days_?” Daichi sniffles, head shifting in a nod.

“You’re going to bed.”

“I told you” Daichi confesses “I can’t sleep. I’ve _tried._ I got tea. I tried over-the-counter sleeping pills. I even got alcohol-”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that.”

“-and I think I looked it up before? No, this is...psychology” Daichi’s voice reduces to a wet frustrated growl, eyes squeezing shut. “First week of school? We learned about the effects of sleep deprivation and all of this falls under it and _gods_ is this how anxiety feels like?” Oikawa bites his lower lip. He stands up, flushes the toilet without looking inside it, and helps Daichi up. Then, he leads him to their shared room, grabbing a blanket and pillow before dragging him to the couch. Daichi watches from the side and the poor guy is trembling, shadows under his eyes (he must of covered them before- so _that’s_ why when he checked his makeup container it looked to smudgy).

“Sit.”

“Sit…” Daichi mutters back to himself before sitting. Then he lays down and Oikawa draws the blanket over him. His eyes are still open.

Oikawa quickly goes back to the kitchen, slightly more relaxed but also a lot _less_ relaxed now that he knows what he hopes is most of the story.

So Daichi was sleep deprived.

That’s the problem.

He opens his phone and looks up: _what happens after three days of sleep deprivation_ , then clicks on the first [ **link** ](https://www.healthline.com/health/sleep-deprivation/sleep-deprivation-stages#recovery) that pops up. “Oh. Well, this is horrible” he says to himself, leaning against the kitchen countertop as he clicks on the embedded links on the page for each of the side effects. Derealization. Daichi’s definitely been feeling that and wow- it sounds _scary_. And then there’s the microscleeps.

“I’m taking you to the doctor” Oikawa says. When there’s no reply, he feels relief. Did he finally fall asleep? No- Daichi is sitting up, slowly standing and walking dully to Oikawa’s side. Not really walking, it’s more like trudging, shoulders hunched forward and toes just avoided grazing the hardwood. He’s quick to hold onto his wrist, scared with how blank those usually warm and bright eyes have become.

“I got you” Oikawa softly says. Derealization. Making himself become a good setter, to become the best of the best, has forced Oikawa to become observant- a setter must know what’s going on at any given moment at all times. He remembers hearing Daichi command to himself _move_ and then _sit_ before carrying the action out. He has the feeling that right now, he isn’t leading Sawamura Daichi because Sawamura Daichi is conscious but not really aware at the moment.

The two come back after a quick appointment with the on-campus doctor. They got the sleeping pills and he warned them to try and not get Daichi addicted to them- only give them to him for one week max, until he shows signs of being able to sleep on his own. He also needs to wait twelve to twenty-four horse before letting Daichi start taking the pills, since Oikawa had suddenly remembered the fact that besides the alcohol, he’d admitted to also taking pills and he doesn’t know _how much_ he took and how much he managed to throw up. So, for this first night, chamomile tea was the recommendation. It’ll help both with sleep and the fever, which leads to Oikawa mentally praising the gods for letting him have have tea-loving Ushiwaka as a roommate (for once).

By the time they come back, though, practice has long-since finished. Bokuto and Kuroo ask questions, Ushijima merely observes. The kitchen is clean of all the trash that had been on it so that means at least one of them saw what was there.

“Daichi” is all Oikawa says, shoving the diagnosis that the doctor printed out at Kuroo who’d be able to explain it best. Kuroo leads the two to the living room after a confused glance at Daichi who doesn’t give any sign of even knowing the others are there. Oikawa sits Daichi down at dining table, quickly getting a mug and filling it up with water while looking over his shoulder in case Daichi somehow _disappears_.

He doesn’t know if that’d be better or worse than the empty stare he’s being subjected to. The increase in volume from the murmurs drifting from the living room gets him moving again, grabbing Ushijima’s jar of dried chamomile from the cabinet, putting a spoon of it into the mug before putting it in the microwave. After forty-five seconds, he takes the mug out, hot but not too hot that it’d burn his tongue.

“Drink slowly” he says, one hand pushing the mug into Daichi’s hand while he uses the other to feel his forehead. Sleep deprivation also contributes to weakening the immune system. The fever feels like it’s increased and Oikawa wants to give him the cold medicine his mom used to give him (or Iwa-chan would force down his throat). But he knows that he can’t. Not right now. It’s also scary how robotically Daichi turns his gaze to the mug and picks it up with trembling fingers, slipping through the handle and lifting it to his mouth, lips staying on the rim, never leaving.

Oikawa stands there for the minute it takes for Daichi to drain the mug, lips turned red from the head of the liquid. Oikawa gently guides him to stand before leading him back to their shared room, laying him down and tucking him into bed, the plain looking comforter he’s seen on the other’s bed surprisingly soft.

“Do you think you can sleep?” Oikawa asks. Daichi nods after a few seconds of hesitation. Oikawa turns the lights off, the dim light the drifts in from the living room being the only thing that allows him to see the flickering glint of eyes as eyelids blink. Oikawa bites his lower lip. He doesn’t really like being in this position. For all his life, it’s always been people taking care of him instead of the other way around, but it seems like in the past three weeks everything he has gotten used to with his old life has been thrown out the window and replaced with something different.

He’s not going to say that he used to hate Sawamura Daichi. No, hate’s too strong of the word. It was more like dislike, mainly because he was on Tobio’s team and was his captain, taking away his last chance at Nationals. But Daichi reminds him of Iwa-chan, a lot. Iwaizumi only has his mother, an older brother whose been living in a different part of the country for a long time, and two younger siblings. He’s been forced to grow up quickly, forced to adapt to taking care of others and rarely being taken care of. As ace, he doesn’t expect for people to pick up for his slack because he makes sure that there’s no slack to pick up. He thinks it’s the same with Daichi, except different circumstances. Iwa-chan has taken that weird maturity and made it his own, blending his own personality with it. With Daichi, it’s like he’s commanding that maturity. And below the outward appearance of the focused captain he shook hands with at their practice match is someone who is still very much a child. It’s unnerving for Oikawa to think about the fact that Daichi is the youngest one here- he mentioned his birthday being in winter. New Year's Eve?

He sits at the edge of the bed, twisting so that he can comfortably place his hand on the space between Daichi’s shoulders, lightly patting his back with what he hopes is the same comforting motion his mom used to perform when he was a kid.

It works. He almost goes to the closest shrine right there and there when after ten minutes, he tilt of his head forward and to the side confirms that Daichi’s eyes aren’t open and the muscles of his body have relaxed, lips slightly parted. He stops the patting and two more minutes of just sitting there confirms that he’s not waking up this time. _The fever will probably help keep him down too_ , Oikawa guilty thinks as he gets up and leaves, closing the door behind him. But with the fever too he’ll probably have to skip his classes tomorrow. He’ll ask around for the lecture notes. He knows that they’re all adults now but it doesn't feel right leaving Daichi on his own and it’s _not_ because of him projecting his childhood want of having a younger sibling on Daichi. Nope.

He collapses onto the couch, tipping his head back and closing his eyes with a small grunt. He landed right on the blanket he had covered Daichi with before they had left for the doctor’s, before he really went into that state of disassociation. It feel uncomfortable under his bum but he doesn’t feel like moving it. He opens his eyes and looks at Bokuto, who is the first of the three to approach him Alright then. He can do this.

“Will Daichi be okay?” He asks. Oikawa gives him a wry smile.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure he will be” Bokuto nods, swallowing. He looks guilty for some strange reason. It’s not like that it’s his fault, or any of theirs. Maybe they contributed somehow, not noticing quickly enough, but the events weren’t theirs to control.

“We poured the beer down the drain before throwing it away.” Kuroo speaks up. “I have no idea where he got it from but” Kuroo runs a hand through his hair, fringe momentarily moving back before falling back over his eye “Gods, I hate this. That paper wasn’t pretty.”

“Good job, Tetsu, throwing the beer away. He managed to drink two, but I’m pretty sure he threw it all back up.”

“I cleaned the bathroom” Ushijima plainly adds. Oikawa has never been more thankful for his simpleness.

“Will he be fine?” Bokuto asks again, golden eyes wide and pleading.

“Absolutely.” He sighs. “I just...it was scary.” Bokuto sits down beside him, wrapping an arm around him. He covers his eyes with a hand, rubbing them before dragging his hand down his face. “He’s been getting pretty stressed out, I think, but I never thought anything this bad would happen. This was worse than the first time. It was like he wasn’t even in his own body, like he was just running on autopilot.”

“Derealization, dissociation; I had to look the first one up.” Kuroo nods. “But, Oikawa. I know Sawamura is the real subject of worry, but how are you holding up?”

“Surprisingly well, Tetsu-kun. It’s weird taking care of him again” he mentally shudders at the memory of the first time “and having to be responsible, but I’m happy I’m able to help him get better. It makes me better knowing that it’s us here instead of some random people who would of done nothing for him.” He nearly spits out. “And I need to get some sleep to.”

“All of us need to get some sleep around here.” Kuroo grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more week until I start writing the real next chapter!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Ushijima's and Kuroo's duet adventures in Tokyo
> 
> Karaoke, ft. Ushijima learning about America's stupid meme culture  
> Kuroo catching up with the cats  
> A certain pair of people decide to come and visit Kuroo and Ushijima a visit  
> We learn what's up with Kuroo and Ushijima  
> And the introduction of a new character (Hint: a friend of Ushijima's_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're gonna start off with Ushijima's POV before turning it over for a short snippet of Kuroo POV, then Ushijima POV, then Kuroo POV for the rest of the fic. 
> 
> Technically, this could of been split into 4-6 chapters, but instead just think of this chapter as have 4-6 parts or phases, and also....  
> 10000 hits? 10000 HITS PEOPLE! THIS IS AMAZING! THANK YOU SO MUCH!
> 
> On another note, if there are any Gekkan shojo Nozaki-kun fans out there, then you’ll probably spot the reference I put in here. It’s a pretty obvious reference.

Ushijima stares down at the phone. Koutarou had come to his aid and had sent him a list of songs and...well..he doesn’t recognize most of the songs. He doesn’t listen to the radio often, since he is a person who focuses better educationally when it is silent or there are natural background noises. He finds songs distracting since he considers them engaging. 

“So which one are you going to choose?” Kuroo says from his side, sipping at his milkshake while Reon sang, trying to sing high notes and ultimately failing to, causing his voice to crack. Eita and Satori laugh. He takes his eyes away from his phone to watch, amused, as Reon also doubles over, clutching his stomach and laughing, his deep warm rumble resonating through the room as the poppy background music continues playing. 

“This one.” Ushijima tilts the phone Kuroo’s way, the other reaching a finger out to better maneuver the angle of the screen. His mouth tilts, eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Baka mita? You do know this is from a video game, right?” 

Ushijima shakes his head. “I was not aware, but it is a very good song. My father used to put on songs like this, and he and mother would sing along to them. It has the feel of a traditional karaoke song.” He heres a sound come from Kuroo. He looks at the middle blocker. His face his bright red, hand covering his mouth. He notices Ushijima’s stare and shakes his head. 

“Ignore me, ignore me- it’s the Americans. I’m just remembering something. Y-you should find it’s number in the book.” 

Walking to the book, he nods at a smiling Satori. Reon returns to his seat from his position by the TV. 

“Look at that- Toshi’s finally gonna sing.” Satori chuckles. “Kuroo-kun, did you see what he’s going to sing?” Kuroo shakes his head rapidly. 

“You’ll see you’ll see.”

Ushijima still doesn’t understand what the ruckus is about. 

He finds the song ID and types it into the table. Grabbing the microphone, he stations himself by the TV, angling himself so that he can see both his friends and the screen. It’s an awkward feeling since he’s never done this before, but there is always a first time for everything. He feels himself tensing up a little because of the strangeness of this moment, the attention he’s receiving for something he isn’t that confident in. 

He feels himself relaxing when the opening saxophone starts playing. 

He feels his eyebrow twitch when all  _ three  _ of them start giggling, Reon included. 

“Baka mita” he starts and he knows something is off when they just laughing even more. By the time he reaches the chorus, they’re clapping along, smiles wide and bright. He isn’t good at singing so his tone barely does shift but that is acceptable. He has learned from the past that it is not enjoyable to listen to people who are good at singing karaoke. 

When he sits down, Kuroo shows him what he meant by “it’s the Americans.” He finds that the short clip didn’t ruin the song for him, per say, but now he hesitates to think of the song now that he is aware of what is commonly associated with it. 

By the time they leave at twelve, Ushijima’s throat is sore and he was convinced to have a milkshake, with the promise that it would make his throat feel better. That was correct, but he should of also expected the surge of energy that came with that. 

Reon and Semi forgo brushing and changing their clothes in favor of immediately going to sleep. Kuroo does the same, sandwiching his head between two pillows. It had been amusing to watch. Not his method of sleep, of course, but what happened when they were walking back from the karaoke place. Kuroo’s hair, like a plant, slowly wilted. By the time he had fallen asleep on his bed, locks of his hair were positioned in the strangest angles, arching over mid air like an umbrella. 

Ushijima looks at his phone, filled with more texts from Koutarou and a “good night!<3”. There is also an image sent from Daichi. Oikawa had busied himself by sending him numerous pictures of the Aoba Johsai campus, desolate and empty. He allows himself to smile at the screen as he reads the messages and saves all of the photos. He can already tell by how active is brain is that he won’t be getting any sleep this night. So he goes to the study room, grabs a random book off the shelf, and retreats to the privacy of his small room. Sometimes he feels like it’s too small, with it’s darkness and window faced away from the sun. His eyes easily adjust to the dark from how many times he’s been up (it can also be due to his high-intake of vitamin A). 

Turning on his small lamp, he starts to read.  _ Botchan _ , by Natsume Soseki. 

Six hours later, he leaves for a jog.

* * *

“KUROO-SAN!” Lev exclaims and Kuroo is suddenly attacked by a mass of limbs. He promised himself he’d have no regrets. 

One of the many things he planned on doing this Golden Week was visit Nekoma. And that he did. It’s good that those two friends of Ushijima are staying over, since they’ll keep Ushijima company. He knows its fine if he’s on his own but he can’t help but be a  _ little  _ protective. It doesn’t look like the guy has many friends in their classes besides the ones they have together, his intimidating figure, naturally stoic expression, and piercing eyes probably being some of the things that make people keep some extra distance.

So now back to Nekoma, yes. 

Kenma had contacted him about a month ago at the start of his official vice-captaincy, complaining about everything. Honestly, he was surprised he even had the energy to complain. But instead of Yaku (who’s in Russia) pulling Lev off, it’s- surprisingly- Yamamoto. 

“Yo, Kuroo-san!” Yamamoto explains, flinging Lev towards some unfamiliar faces who awkwardly shuffle just withing listening distance. The ace slings an arm around Kuroo’s shoulder. 

“Yamamoto! How’s captaincy been going, hmm? And also I heard you're in the tops now. I can’t lie about this, but I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither” the bleach-haired teen puffs his chest out, thumping it in pride. “Rank four ace in the nation!” Kuroo raises an eyebrow. 

“Oho? So you’re gonna be Bokuto’s torchbearer now?” He pats the teen on the back, smiling. He’s proud, really. Yamamoto has come a long way. He isn’t the fight-loving slightly irritating and unruly first year that he’d been. To be honest, Kuroo can’t imagine him without that puff of blond and nice scratchy baldness anymore. He looks around the gym and it looks the same as always, if not a bit cleaner since the floor were probably polished during the break between school years. 

“Do you know who’s in third?” Kuroo absently muses, wanting to keep any chances of awkward silence at zero. Kenma throws a ball at someone and starts walking towards Kuroo. The front locks of his hair tied back in a little ponytail. For some reason reason, Yamamoto’s face brightens. He’s become to used to Bokuto’s reactions then. 

“Tanaka!” Yamamoto chirps. If he had any water in his mouth, he would of spit it out. 

“Wh- _ what!?”  _ He splutters. He knows someone who was a third ranked ace- he  _ lives  _ with him! He also knows Bokuto, the one who was rank four. He’s also played Itachiyama so he’s faced off with the rank one ace in the nation before but _ Tanaka _ ? The baldier-baldy?

But then he starts to think about it. He remembers nationals- Karasuno couldn’t of beat them unless each and every one of their players had a role to play, had improved in that role. And Tanaka, he was powerful. Not as powerful as Karasuno’s ace but he was strong. And there was a  _ lot  _ of time between National’s and now. Months. Months in which anything could of happened. 

Sawamura introduced Tanaka as someone who is resilient, someone who doesn’t give up or back away no matter what happens. He’s the strongest one on the team, emotionally and now physically. People may call him simple but in reality, he’s a lot more complex than anyone could give him any credit for. 

Yamamoto fervently nods. “They changed something in the way they determine stats or something. That dude from Itachiyama is still in first and there’s some random dude in the second spot, but by bro went ahead and stole third before I could!”

“How do you know?” Kuroo says. “Did he tell you or was it in a mag?”

“Ah, no- interviews” Yamamoto waves. “Nationals played a lot into it so it was probably their victory that bumped him up. But we  _ will  _ win the Summer Interhigh!” Yamamoto cheers. “Kuroo-san, you’re going to help with practice, right?”

“He is” Kenma mutters. “That’s why he’s here.” He looks up at Kuroo and nods. Kenma can’t help but smile back. It’s been a while since he’s seen his best friend in person- he hasn’t since he basically ran away, even though he’s legally allowed to since he’s an adult. It still feels like so long ago when he got his shit together, planned everything out, and left that part of his past in, well, the past. As a ghost. A nightmare. 

Another five minutes of catching up with the third and second years (he’s so proud of them) and then getting introduced to the first years (they’re so tiny) and practice finally gets going. He stands on the side with the coaches for the beginning before joining in and helping the first years out. He likes that they’re good, and he can already tell that some of them aren’t just good at defense, as that is what they focus on, but they’re also good offensive players. A lethal grin flashes across his face. Even though he’s graduated, even though he plays on a team of former enemies, he’s still going to make sure that this time around Nekoma gets to beat anyone who comes in their path. They won’t be little house cats, only doing what they need to do. No no no- he’ll make sure that they become like panthers- elegant, smooth, and dangerous. 

* * *

Reon, Eita, and Satori leave after lunch. Reon and Eita are the first to leave, Satori staying for a few more minutes. They simply sat there in silence, just staring at each other. 

“How did you sleep?” Satori asks. 

“I didn’t.” Ushijima replies. As usual, he’s now starting to feel the effects of the sleep deprivation, his eyes becoming easier to close and harder to open. He takes his tea from the table and sips at it. Satori sighs. 

“Waka-”

“Koutarou already knows. He wakes up very easily.” Satori instantaneously relaxes, a relieved look crossing his face. Ushijima understands his friend’s concern, and he isn’t really keeping it a secret or anything. It’s only the feeling of having to rely on others, of having others have to dedicate time to help him, that deters him from truly seeking out help. But fate seems to have a different idea. It’s strange having to trust others when most of his life has been spent on his own, having only himself outside of the comfort of his home. But it’s not bad. It’s rather nice. 

“That’s good, that’s good. You know I worry, Wakatoshi.” 

“I do to” Ushijima replies with a rueful smile. Satori’s eyes twinkle. 

“So you’ve become a smartass now, hmm? I blame bedhead.”

“Blame Oikawa” Ushijima retorts. There’s a flash of something, giddiness, inside of him. He won’t be able to talk to his friend like this for a while after the end of the week. It seems like Satori know that too, with how much more calmed down his demeanor is. 

“You’ll visit me tomorrow?” Satori asks instead of saying the traditional goodbye as he stands. Ushijima nods. 

“I will see you tomorrow, then.” 

Satori salutes him and skips to the door,, picking up his bag along the way. Ushijima following him. He watches the redhead fling the door open and instead of leaping into the corridor as he would expected, his friend stops. 

“Why, hello there.” Satori says without turning around. “I was just leaving.” he looks over his shoulder. “Toshi, you have guests. I’ll see you.” And then he leaves. Ushijima frowns and steps closer to the doorway. He blinks. A man and woman stand before him, people he’s never seen before. They both look very kind, the man the same height as he is, surprisingly, the woman much shorter. The man is wearing a suit, grey streaked hair neatly combed back, almond eyes shining silver. The woman wears a modest sundress, natural auburn hair lightly coiled. The thing that catches his attention about her is here eyes. They’re familiar. 

“Good afternoon.” Ushijima starts automatically. “May I ask who you are?” The woman smiles. 

“You’re so polite!” She beams. She gives him a short bow. “Kuroo Chiyo. This is my husband, Kuroo Umetarou.” It clicks in Ushijima’s head. He would of been worried if it hadn’t. 

“You are Kuroo Tetsurou’s parents.” He states. He steps to the side. “Would you like to come in? Kuroo is currently out but he should be back within the hour.” The two nod and enter. Ushijima closes the door behind it, turning the lock before taking to his guests. 

So there are Kuroo’s parents. They seem very nice. He offers them tea but both of them decline. But his mother’s family have drilled manners into him from a young age so he ignores their words and puts water to a boil, putting the leaves in before returning to the living room. The couple are looking around the living room, their eyes returning specifically to the wall of framed photographs. Originally, there had only been the original five of their team. But now there are a few more framed photographs, the pictures cheaply printed out on copy paper. It had been Koutarou’s doing, one particularly lazy day. 

“These are the rest of the people who live here?” Chiyo asks. 

“Sawamura Daichi, Bokuto Koutarou, and Oikawa Tooru.” Ushijima immediately says. “Yes.” Umetaro’s back straightens. 

“Ah, Bokuto-kun! He would come over sometimes, such an excited and dedicated young man. Surprisingly intelligent too. I knew he was going to be successful. This is a good school too.” Ushijima nods. 

“Bokuto is a good friend” it feels strange saying his family name after all this time. “Kuroo is also a good friend too. May I ask why you have come to visit him? He never told me that you would be coming.” 

Chiyo clucks her tongue. Her hands move to smoothen the wrinkles in her lap before they fold together. She stares at Ushijima for a few moments. It’s unnerving to see Kuroo’s eyes on someone so different that him. 

“I guess Tetsu just wanted to be independent” she sighs, her tone sad. “He left home almost immediately after graduation. He never told us exactly why and he never contacted us in the time that has passed.” Ushijima’s mouth twitches downward. Kuroo simply abandoned his family? They’re very kind people. It doesn’t seem right that he would of done so, even if they were what books call helicopter-parents. He can’t help but feel that he’s missing something but he can’t be suspicious of the smallest little thing. Sometimes people defy expectation, and not in a positive way. And if they haven’t been in contact, then how did they manage to obtain this address?

“Can you tell us what our son has been up to?” Umetarou asks. “I-we” he corrects “Never stopped wondering. Was he kidnapped? Is he alright? Is he financially stable? Is he healthy? I-” he rubs a hand over his face and sniffles “Please, can you tell us how Tetsurou has been?” Ushijima’s suspicion recedes. They’re just two parents who care about their son. Perhaps it was a moment of family drama taken too harshly that caused Kuroo to distance himself from the people who love him. He nods. 

“I would be glad to.”

He regales to them what he has learned about Kuroo Tetsurou since their initial meeting. His perseverance and dedication. His hard work that benefits all of them. His skill on the volleyball court that managed to get him the scholarship to this school in the first palace. How kind his is. To his friends, to other. His protective instinct. How he would cleverly play with the chemistry teacher who seemed to loath Bokuto. How he could identify any element based off of a given quality commonly available on a periodic table. His sharp tongue that could draw a bout of boisterous laughter from someone once they understand the joke. 

In summary, he tells about how his son is a good person. How he is one of the best people he has ever met. 

They ask questions too. Such as how Kuroo is at volleyball, how he interacts with his professor’s, if his behavior is ever unacceptable. Some of the questions are strange but Ushijima imagines his father would ask the same to any one of his friends.

“What?” 

Ushijima’s head snaps to the side. He looks at Kuroo, bag hanging from his hands, face shining with a light layer of sweat from the commute. His expression isn’t happy. It’s shocked. Instead of taking a step forwards, he takes a step backwards. 

“Kuroo” Ushijima says. “You’re parents came. They’ve been very concerned about you.” Kuroo’s face twitches into something dark. 

“Oh have they?” His eyes narrow. He drops his bag onto the ground, hands moving to hide inside of his pockets. Ushijima was able to see that they were shaking before the action was complete. “So that’s what they told you.”

“Tetsu, we have been very con-” 

“ _ Don’t  _ call me that.” Kuroo snarls, cutting his mother off. Ushijima turns to look at the couple. There’s no joy on their face, as he would of expected since it was happiness that was on their face the whole time. Instead, there’s irritation. 

“Don’t talk to your mother like that.” Umetarou frowns. “We would like for you to come home for few days-”

“No.” Kuroo says. “Can you kindly leave? I will file a restraining order on you if you don’t.” Kuroo’s eyes are narrowed and dangerous, chin raised and the expression on his face resembling that of disgust. 

He looks scared. 

He looks terrified. 

“I see” Ushijima says, even though he has no idea what is going on. Not even a clue. He wishes he had Satori’s perception skills. “May you two leave? I apologize for the sudden request. Please do not visit again.”

“He’s our  _ son _ ” Umetarou explains, suddenly on his feet. He takes a step towards Ushijima, forcing his to stand. “You can’t tell us what we can or can’t do- this is a family matter. You shouldn’t interfere if you have any manners.” Ushijima tilts his head to the side. 

“Then I do not have any manners. Leave. Now.” His voice hardens. Chiyo flips her hair, nose wrinkled, a complete change from the happy, smiling woman he had greeted at the door. Kuroo doesn’t look at the two as they leave, door slamming shut behind them. His eyes remain trained on the floor. Then he walks to the couch, sits down, and stares at the coffee table. Ushijima stares at him. Kuroo doesn’t move, not even blinking. So it makes him flinch when Kuroo suddenly stands and punches the wall. 

“DAMMIT!” He yells. He turns around and slides down the wall until he’s sitting, legs bent and fingers pulling at his hair. 

“Kuroo” Ushijima says. He walks towards the other, joining him on the ground. He lifts an arm to wrap around him before taking it back. He doesn’t know how to deal with this sort of stuff. He’s never been in this position before. 

“They were nice at first, weren’t they? They acted like a good happy couple and that they loved me so much.”

“...yes.”

“Well, that’s false. Bet you got that much, at least.. Ushijima leans back against the wall, turning his head to the side. He lifts his arm again. Maybe he should try again. Koutarou did say many times that Kuroo is very much like a cat. He places his arm across Kuroo’s shoulder. He quickly moves closer to Ushijima, resting a head on his shoulder. Kuroo’s eyes stare straight forward. Ushijima follows his gaze to see what he’s staring at: the side of the couch. 

“They used to abuse me” Kuroo says. Ushijima’s whole body freezes, his gaze also stuck on the side of the couch now. “Verbal, physical. Only Kenma’s ever known and he told me that they’ve been trying to find out where I went after I ran away. I couldn’t stay there anymore. And I’ve been so happy here, I’ve never been scare, I’ve never had to wake up in the morning and prepare myself for a beating.”

“Oh.”

Kuroo lets out a wet laugh. “You’re awesome, you know that Ushijima? I’m happy you aren’t really acting any different. You’re not pitying me or trying to make me feel better. Because I’m alright, I really am. It’s just….it’s bad. That I saw them. I never wanted to see them again. There. That’s it, my tragic backstory. Do you have anything to say?”

“Not necessarily, no.” Kuroo laughs again. 

“You’re awesome, you know that?” Ushijima feels Kuroo’s head move. His body is able to move again. He looks down at Kuroo. “Remember that icecream place I took you to when we all met? Do you want to go there?” Ushijima may not be good at reading people, at understanding what their body language means or if they’re implying something else. But he can interpret words at times very well.  _ Do you want to  _ or  _ Can we _ . It’s a matter of control now. 

“I have wondered how squid ink icecream tastes like.”

* * *

Kuroo isn’t actually alright. He wanted to make himself believe that but as he lays there awake that night. The icecream had been good and by some miracle, Ushijima hadn’t brought up the events of that day. And that was good, really good, because it kept him from thinking about it and  _ thinking about it  _ is what makes him bad. Because it brings up memories. It brings up probability. It brings up the future. 

They know his address. They can come for him now. 

He hears something outside of his door. His breath catches in his throat.  _ They’re here they’re here they’re here they- _ The sounds continue, footsteps, and they grow quieter, moving towards the kitchen.  _ It’s not them  _ he thinks to himself.  _ It’s probably Ushijima _ . That makes him pause. He pushes the pillow off his head and sits up, staring at the alarm clock. 

2:18 AM. 

Ushijima went to bed at ten. Kuroo returned to his room a few minutes before twelve. So what the hell is Ushijima doing awake at two in the morning? He waits what he thinks is another ten minutes before getting up. He doesn’t hear the footsteps again so that means Ushijima either hasn’t returned to his room or it was actually an intruder or theif who decided to leave. 

Kuroo gently opens the door. One of the kitchen lights are on, dim lighting barely seeping past the edge of the wall. His assumption is correct about it being Ushijima. The guy is uncharacteristically sitting on the countertop, nursing a mug of something. Kuroo shivers in the cold and watches as the steam wafts into the air. 

The only thing Kuroo thinks is:  _ Ushijima looks like shit _ . 

Kuroo would of expected himself to be in bad shape. And he is, but it’s just memories. He can feel phantom touches of fists on his skin, of a chair slamming into his back. He’s had  _ years  _ to stabilize his mind because he didn’t want to be some traumatized kid that people would expect him to be once they learn he’s been abused for the majority of his life. 

Ushijima’s t-shirt sticks to his body, neck and face glistening with sweat, hair messily plastered to his forehead. There’s a strange expression on his face. There’s emotion on his face, more than Kuroo has ever seen on the former ace. It looks like he’s trying to keep himself from falling apart. 

“Ushijima?” Olive eyes slowly drift up, catching onto Kuroo’s. “What are you doing awake?”

“There’s hot chocolate on the stove” Ushijima says. “I made too much tonight.” Kuroo bites his lower lip, grabbing a cup. The hot chocolate smells delicious, he admits. He takes a sip and looks at Ushijima. Every passing second seems to make him look more and more exhausted. 

“Why’re you up?” Kuroo asks. Ushijima takes a sip of his hot chocolate. He looks a little bit better but Kuroo still feels like the guy went through something pretty bad. 

“Nightmare. I get them very easily and frequency. Today’s….events, they contributed slightly.” Kuroo’s face softness.

“So it was about me...I’m sorry Ushijima. I-if I’d known, I-”

“It is not your fault- it is my brain’s. I know this may seem a bit intrusive, but did they hurt you a lot?” Kuroo drums his fingers against the side of the mug. 

“I had a good childhood, actually.” He admits. “My parents had been very supportive. My mom was the one who played volleyball- recreational, not in club, though. She bought me a volleyball one day and my interest just grew from there. 

“I think it was in fifth grade when it was like a switch suddenly flipped inside of them. It wasn’t even a gradual thing- it was really sudden. It started verbally. They would talk about my grades, how the latest loss was my fault, comparing me to other people. My friends. My family. Kenma even. And I was  _ so  _ confused back then. 

“It was the end of middle school, I think, when it really became bad. Not really bad, though. I got lucky. But that’s when they actually started hitting me, hitting me more than the occasional slap. Throwing shoes, breaking chairs, kicking and punching me. But I think that actually made me stronger. 

“I knew for a while what was happening to me- I’m also here because of my brains. I didn’t want to become some traumatized quiet kid that people would expect someone like me to be. Oh, you were abused? That explains why you’re weak, scared easily, and pathetic. But that’s not true. I don’t know  _ where  _ that stereotype came from. It made my stronger, yeah. I used it as a motive, a driving force, to make myself want to better myself so that I could have a better future. So that I could escape the present.

“It got easier in high school. I had to dedicate myself more to studying and to volleyball. My dad, he never wanted me to go to college. My parents are loaded ‘cuz he owns a company.” Kuroo rolls his eyes. “They wanted to control me even as an adult.  _ Hell no _ . They tried taking me out of volleyball so I could start interning but I refused. There were a lot of fights for that but both of them work and I was so busy so they really only had the weekend to do that stuff.

“And now...that’s the past.” He looks up with a grin. “And I’m sure that I’m gonna be freaked out and jumpy for some time, but I got the good stick. I didn’t have it fresh in my mind like Bo. I didn’t have to live through it right now and still have to deal with it like Sawamura. I know Oikawa has something up with his knee and there’s more to that that he hasn’t let past but I don’t have to deal with that pain. And whatever you’re going through right now...I don’t have that.

“It’s weird. It’s like all of us got a different flavor of pain. My pain’s in the past. Bo’s pain was in the past and now in the present. Oikawa’s is a nuisance, a cycle. Sawamura’s is in the present. And you, Ushijima, I feel like you got the short stick. Even though you don’t let it out, your’s is probably past, present, and it’s gonna keep on coming. And I really feel bad about that. Don’t worry about me more than you have to. Don’t worry about me at  _ all _ .”

Drumming his fingers against the side of his mug, he manages a small smile. “That’s my tale. Now you tell me what’s up with you, ‘Jima. What’s your story?”

“Nothing as bad as yours.” Ushiima says with a shrug. 

It’s a lie. 

Kuroo wonders why all of them have secrets which shouldn’t have to be a secret. Why they can’t really trust. Why everything in their past is so messed up, especially since they don’t deserve it. 

He tells Kuroo about the not well-known fact that he is too intimate with sleep deprivation to be considered normal. It started when Ushijima was a child. Specifically, around the time when he was able to retain memories of drawing and writing. His grandparents on his mother’s side were vary traditionalist and were openly opposed to his left handedness. They tried to get him to stop numerous way: binding his left hand shut, praying to the gods in front of him about it, trying to scare him out of using his left hand with stories that would haunt any toddler. 

So nightmares plagued his youth. His mother wasn’t really aware about them. Only his father was, and then he left, and they grew. The nightmares changed to be about a variety of different things. He read and tried things to get rid of them: mediation, tea, intensive exercise. When none of them visibly worked, he resigned himself to his nightmares. And as the famous saying goes: things will always get worst before they get better. 

The worst included his mind waking up before his body, unable to move, unable to do anything to quell the panic and fear that overwhelmed him. That’s what really pushed him to occasionally stay awake getting ahead on homework, reading books, watching videos. He never wanted to one day wake up and never be able to move his limbs ever again. Because that would mean no more volleyball. And volleyball was probably the only thing that really made him smile anymore. 

His exhaustion showed with his small average of spoken words being cut by more than half, choosing them words wisely so he wouldn’t have to open his mouth as much as, something which became part of his personality. It was surprisingly easy for an eight year old to change so much. 

He passed out once during practice. Only once. And that was before he was even in middle school. 

The sleep paralysis, the nightmares, they sort of reduced in number with time. His mind was kept too busy with school and when he got into Shiratorizawa and met his roommate, Ohira Reon, he found himself smiling more than once a week. He found himself being pulled into conversation. He found himself telling the boy about his problems and that having someone else in the same room as him reduced the nightmares and kept the night terrors away. 

When he got Satori for a roommate in high school, he didn’t even have to tell him anything. His amazing intuition carried outside of the court. Week one at Shiratorizawa only gave him one nightmare instead of the usual two. Week two gave him one. Week three gave him a nightmare and a long 

Shiratorizawa, of course, is an academically rigorous school too so it wasn’t unexpected that they would spend much of their freetime working on their homework on their own, together, or with the other first years on their team who both he and Satori had befriended. On the way back from another study session, Ushijima, as usually, had stopped by one of the small cafe stands on the sprawling campus. Before he could order his usual tea, Satori had cut him off and payed for him to get a hot chocolate, a drink which Ushijima is fond of but doesn’t indulge in due to its sweetness. 

“Caffeine’s not really good for you” Satori had said, requesting that whipped cream be put on before handing the drink to him. “It’s a stimulant. It can cause you to have more nightmares.”

Ever since then, Satori would mostly be able to now which nights would be good and bad, and Ushijima would wake up to a dimmed light and Satori shaking him before it could become bad. Sometimes he would wake up sweaty and even more tired than when he went to sleep, instinctively expecting a cold room and his blanket at his feet or on the floor. When he’d stumble on his feet, bumping into something in the too-small space, the noise that would accompany the heavy steps of his own feet would be the light sound of Satori jumping down from the top bunk to wrap him in a hug. When his body wouldn’t move and his mind would warp the shadows and shapes in his room, a friendly figure would sit at the side of his bed and somehow find a new thing from the latest issue of _Jump_ magazine to talk about. 

And then he graduated. And only he went to Tokyo. The first night there he had a nightmare which woke him up at three in the morning, and when he went to the kitchen to do  _ something _ , Bokuto had beat him there, sitting on the countertop, wide awake with no signs of exhaustion, most of his hair still sticking up from hair gel and out of sheer stubbornness, and handed him the last remaining of can of five cans of assorted drinks he got from the hallway vending machine sometime in the middle of the night. It was chocolate milk. 

Ever since then, the few 

“So Bo helped you out with your” Kuroo starts awkwardly, “With the night terrors?” Ushijima nods. Kuroo looks down, tapping his fingers against the top of the lower cabinet. Ushijima looks at Kuroo from across the kitchen, the two of them simply existing in mutual silence. Kuroo feels like he’s missing something, and it nags at him as they allow the silence to grow. 

“For how smart he’s supposed to be, he’s not intuitive. So how does he…” he lets the question hang. He tries to think about it and Ushijima isn’t giving him anything. But at least he guy's eyes seem brighter- it clicks. “He’s the lightest sleeper I’ve ever known!” Kuroo exclaims. “Of course he’ll hear you walking. Owls are supposed to have good hearing, I guess.”

Ushijima looks amused. “It’s not exactly the same, but yes.” The amusement fades from his face. “You are sure that you will be alright, yes?” Kuroo shrugs. 

“I know that things will be iffy for a while, but for now...I’m going to be happy. I’m not letting a pair of the worse human beings I know mess up my life. I refuse to let them. So if I start crying all of a sudden, don’t want to be touched, or just ask really out of character….know that all of that means that the next day I’m going to be better.”

Ushijima sets his mug to the side. “I would like you to meet someone. I had planned to go on my own the day after tomorrow, technically today-” Kuroo lets out a light snort “-but I will bring you to. He will be able to help you, I believe, since his experiences are similar.” 

Kuroo shrugs. “That’s alright, I guess. Thank you, Ushijima, for not making this more than it actually is. And also, I’m going to help you out too. We’ll start with getting you to bed.”

The day continues as usual after they wake up past noon. Kuroo can’t bring himself to look at his phone in fear of a text from an unknown number saying specific things. He knows it’s illogical, since Bokuto, Sawamura, or Oikawa might try to text or call, but he can’t help it. Ushijima tells him during their late lunch that the friend he’s meeting with has agreed for Kuroo to come as well. 

At night, Ushijima calls Oikawa, Bokuto, and Sawamura for Kuroo, telling them about what happened upon Kuroo’s insistence. He doesn’t know what the future will hold but he understands the need for support. The next morning, he finally reads the texts he left alone, replying to every single one of them. 

At four o’clock in the afternoon, they finally leave for lunch. He’s starving. Ushijima makes him first go and wash his hands at the restaurant bathroom before they head to the main dining area. It’s too late for lunch and too early for dinner so all of the tables are empty...

Except for one. 

Kuroo sits down opposite of the guy who barely look younger than himself. There’s hand sanitizer on the table which smells faintly like antiseptic. And he recognizes him. It’s hard  _ not  _ to It’s just kind of hard to believe that Ushijima is somehow  _ friends  _ with this guy. 

“Wakatoshi-kun” the boy says, pulling his mask off. “It is good to see you again. You’re name is…?

“This is Kuroo Tetsurou” Ushijima says, making Kuroo sit first before he slides into the booth next to him. “Kuroo, meet Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....how did you guys like that one? And yes, I have finally returned- I forgot to address that in the beginning AN
> 
> Also, you guys probably don't analyze fanfiction for symbolism and stuff, but I just wanted to point out my use of squid ink ice cream as a use of symbolism because, well, I'm a nerd and I would of gotten too hyped-up being like "Oh! Someone's going to comment about how they would the motif-" but alas, I've done that with previous chapters as well. So quick literature thing: ice cream is a BIG recurring motif throughout this fic so far. Specifically, squid ink ice cream. Well, not really, but we first see squid ink ice cream appear when we get our first chapter of Oikawa POV waaaay in the beginning when Kuroo takes them for ice cream on the first day. Oikawa orders squid ink ice cream after thinking to himself about how he likes to think that ice cream flavor choice can tell you something about a person. And then, in this chapter, we get Kuroo ordering squid ink ice cream. From the same place. 
> 
> It's not just random flavor selection. If you feel like it, what do you think it means? Oikawa's piece of the motif is in chapter 4


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Continuation of the last chapter-  
> Kuroo and Ushijima meet up with Sakusa  
> Kuroo makes a questionable decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have _no idea_ how good it feels to write on a day which _isn't_ a Saturday or Sunday. This is the curse of being a good student *wistfully looks into the distance* Man, I wish I was dumber and less ambitious. Oh well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, I don't know why but this somehow, this was written while listening to JJBA Jonathan’s theme on loop (don’t blame me! It’s soooo goooood- Jonathan be best JoJo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrw3NYx2YQ0

Kuroo feels humbled and small at the moment— mentally and physically. He’s never met this person actually, only having tried to stop their spikes once from across the net, but he already knows so much about him. In the volleyball world, it’s not hard to. At 189 centimeters or six foot two, the second year- no, third year now. But both years in a row, he is the country’s high school volleyball number one ace (that fills him with a quick flash of pride when he remembers Yamamoto and Tanaka, the two having fought their way to ranks four and three). 

Maybe this doesn’t happy in other countries but high school sports are popular in Japan, especially the national tournaments. He knows that volleyball isn’t nearly as popular as football or baseball with their expensive equipment and fancy uniforms. But highschool volleyball, specifically the boy’s division, is very popular with the opposite gender. And also with entertainment. And Sakusa Kiyoomi, being the youngest ace to rank first in the country and also to  _ keep  _ that position for more than a year now...he’s a name that anyone who follows sports recognizes. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi, more surprisingly, is one of the few people who have rejected an invitation to the National Youth Team. That drew a lot of attention. The media ignores his strange habit of straying away from crowds and not really talking to anyone, barely appearing in interviews and the such. He guesses that mysterious aura only made him seem more appealing to the masses. 

Anyway, he never thought before he would ever get to talk to Sakusa, much less sit across from him for lunch. And Ushijima being friends with Sakusa? He guesses they could of met some times...more than a few times. During National matches, the national youth training camp Bokuto met Ushijima at in their first year, top three secret meets. 

This requires too much thought, Kuroo suddenly decides. He’ll just learn as he goes. 

“Sakusa Kiyoomi” Kuroo says, nodding at him. “Pleasure to meet you.” He thinks the others eyes narrow a bit. It’s startling how emotionless they look with how black his irises are. 

“Likewise.”

A waiter comes to them almost immediately, taking their drink orders. Ushijima orders a cold coffee. Both Kuroo and Sakusa order water without any ice in it. He sees Sakusa tolt his head a bit at his order but he doesn’t say anything. 

Interesting. Very interesting. 

Ushijima brought him to meet Sakusa because they have similar experiences apparently, and he believes he’ll be able to help. Kuroo isn’t one to question Ushijima because the guy is a really honest person, the most honest he’s ever met. And yes, he admits he’s grown softer towards the guy after what he learned about him. He shiver runs up his spine.  _ Similar experiences _ . Similar...he moves his eyes away from the table to glance at Sakusa.  _ Coal black emotionless _ . One thing which Kuroo is near addicted to is having control over himself and anything else. Logically, that would mean that he should of been a setter. But, then there’s the second thing he likes to do: proving people wrong. Putting them down (although he’d  _ never  _ do that to any of his friends). And that’s the thing about being a middle blocker, someone who  _ specializes  _ at reaching up and into the direction the ball is going to go before the spiker himself knows, the satisfaction of the feel of the ball slapping off skin and onto the other side of the court, the look of shock, disappointment, and resentment on the other’s face. 

He wanted to show his parents that they couldn’t control him through their actions. And the world, they would think that he’d come out a scared little boy. Yes, he could of done that. Yes, he was scared and traumatized at one point. But you know what? He wanted to prove  _ everyone  _ wrong. It’s a very twisted truth that most people have some sort of teenage “emo” phase. Kuroo on the other hand? He had a person revolution, his mind against itself, logic versus reality. 

_ We don’t need memories  _ is one of the less cheesy team mottos Kuroo has seen. And to be honest, he loves it. Because he doesn’t need those memories, only his experiences. 

He wonders, for Sakusa to not even have a glimmer of  _ anything  _ in those orbs...what sort of memories does he have hidden in there. If he can just catch a glimpse-

Sakusa is staring right back at him. 

Kuroo can’t help but smile back at him, the same crooked thing he has perfected in the mirror after so many years. Sakusa lets out a small huff of a laugh, if it can even be called anything other than an exhale. He hears Ushijima shift besides him on the leather of the booth. 

“Ushijima said you’re similar to me— I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean volleyball. So what’s screwed up about your life?” Sakusa tilts his side to the bit just a little. That simple movement makes him think that he’s judging him. A lot. Well, he’s not losing that game. 

“Nothing exactly the same as yours. The biggest factor would be my mysophobia.” Kuroo starts to like this guy a bit more when he doesn’t stop to explain what that is. “My parents, my mother” Sakusa corrects, “she was neglectful, not abusive. I left her home near the end of junior high and now life with my fathers.” Sakusa lifts his hands up from where they’ve been resting assumingly in his lab. Long fingers-  _ very  _ long in proportion to those hands, hover over the table before slowly folding, clasped hands resting on the tabletop. 

The waiter returns with their drinks before Kuroo could reply. All he does is nod and swallow, taking his water and helping the waiter pass Ushijima his cold coffee. The three of them then order their meals, Kuroo settling with something small, more like a snack rather than an actual lunch. Almost immediately after the waiter walks away with their orders and menus, Sakusa takes out a packet of wet wipes from gods know where, wiping down the glass before taking the straw out and sliding it into the liquid. 

“Wakatoshi-kun also told me about your handling of your stuff. At first I thought that you’re fine. Anyway, why should I of helped you? I don’t know you, you don’t know me.”

“Kiyoomi-” Ushijima starts. 

“I’m hear, aren’t I?” Sakusa retorts. “Anyway, the trauma is going to get back at you sometime soon now that it’s back when you least expected it. You’re finally sade and now that safety is gone. I know, except ten year old me had no idea how to control it. So I decided to control whatever I could.”  _ One thing Kuroo is near addicted to is having control over himself and anything else. _

Amber eyes meet pitch black.  _ I dare you _ —  _ I  _ dare  _ you to look away _ . Neither of them look away. And Kuroo wonders that maybe, maybe, is this who he could of become? Control comes in different shapes and sizes. His comes in the form of control over his mind and his actions. Same with Sakusa. But it just branches off from there. Sakusa spikes the balls and Kuroo stops them. It mildly annoys him how easily his mind automatically creates volleyball references. Sure he loves the sport but his mind doesn’t revolve around it. 

“I see you two are getting along?” Ushijima inputs, voice nearly tentative. 

“I think we are” Sakusa answers before Kuroo could. “Wakatoshi-kun, perhaps we should reschedule a meeting between the two of us for later? You look exhausted.”

“I’ll be fine” Ushijima replies. Kuroo can see Sakusa’s plan loud and clear. It’s a good move, benefiting all of them. Ushijima really does look like he needs sleep and Kuroo thinks about it. He  _ has  _ seen Ushijima like this before. He has noticed the sleep deprivation, the insomnia, but never tied any of the strings together. He never really tried to. It makes him feel a tad bit bad, well,  _ more  _ than a tad bit, that he’s the least close to Ushijima. 

“Ush’jima” Kuroo drawls with a slight downturn of his lips. “You really should sleep. I mean, you also wake up super early every day.” Something turns in his head. “How the  _ heck  _ do you even get up that early each morning!? Go to bed!” Ushijima protests as Kuroo pushes him out of the booth, nearly making the man fall onto the ground. 

“But I ordered-”

“I’ll pay for it and get it to-go. You  _ better  _ be asleep by the time I get back home.” Ushijima’s mouth opens. For a moment, Kuroo thinks he’s going to say something- he always does- but he doesn’t. Mouth closed, Ushijima nods at Sakusa then at Kuroo. 

“I will try. I hope you two have a good meal. Kiyoomi, I will message you as to when I am free.” Sakusa nods in return. 

The moments after Ushijima’s departure are filled with silence. They sip at their identical drinks. Kuroo is the first to start the conversation up again. Well, just start a conversation- there was never any in the first place. 

“So you’re mysophobic and had a bad mom.”

“Yes. The doctor thinks that I also have general anxiety disorder as well just because of some...episodes I have.” 

Kuroo hums in reply, tapping his fingers against the wooden tabletop. “How do you deal with that?”

“I clean” Sakusa says with a shrug. “If that doesn’t help, I call my cousin. I’m not a social person- I hate large gatherings- but I find that it really does help.”

Kuroo nods along in agreement. He hasn’t really tried to talk to anyone. The thing with Ushijima, well, he couldn’t really stop it. It was his parents who decided to barge into his life again, to take back the control he had stolen from them. He doesn’t know what to say in response, actually. He hasn’t really tried to cope. 

“I don’t do anything- I’ve never tried to do anything” he corrects himself. “I just...bottle it up, you could say. Volleyball,” he chuckles “it’s like my life revolves around that sport with how many roles it plays in my life.” Sakusa hums in agreement. “I talked a bit with Ushijima last night. That helped a bit I think. To be honest, I never thought about talking to anyone about it” he confesses. He brinks his drink close to him again, sipping on the water. Even though it doesn’t have any ice, it feels colder than before. Sakusa stares at him with that analytical look, face emotionless. 

“You don’t want it to feel important” Sakusa finally says. “You don’t want it to have control over anything. You want to have control over it, your experiences.” Kuroo raises an eyebrow. 

“And I thought that jocks aren’t supposed to be smart” he drawls. Sakusa’s eyebrows twitch. 

“I’m not a jock.”

“Hmm.” Kuroo crosses his arm. “So what’s your diagnosis.”

“I don’t have any. I’m just trying to figure you out” Sakusa says. “You ignore what has happened. You don’t think about it. All that’s going to do is make everything bad when it hits you again. My mysophobia, it wasn’t something I always had. Honestly, I wonder how I existed without it as a child. But when the urges, you could say, would come, they would be bad. Because I never thought about them in between. I never thought about the germs or dirt or dust that could be on every surface. And then it would hit me how dirty I am.

“You’re trying to bury your past. Just like how I tried to bury that feeling of dirtiness, of wanting to clean and be pure. When you start thinking about it all of a sudden, you won’t be able to stop. And that can happen at any time. No matter how much you want to, we can’t fully control our thoughts.”

“Then do you have anything to suggest?”

“Yes.” Sakusa drains his glass of its remaining water. Kuroo looks down at his own, also almost done. So it somehow became a competition. He wonders when. “I want you to intentionally think about it. Your past. Even if it becomes too much, don’t stop. Get someone to talk to, play, volleyball, study, I don’t care. Don’t ignore it.” Kuroo blinks. Once. Twice. He experiments with blink speed as well, enjoying the minute flashes of expression that flash across Sakusa’s face. 

“So basically, you want me to face my trauma?”

“Yes.”

“Because you think I might have some screwed up version of, I don’t know, PTSD otherwise?”

“...yes.”

Kuroo tips his head back and stares at the ceiling. “Well, that’s just great.” Sakusa doesn’t say anything else. Kuroo is just fine with the silence now. And now...Screw Sakusa Kiyoomi because he can’t get his suggestion out of his head. His mind is already starting to drift towards a corner of his mind once filled with warmth and light but now covered with cobwebs, dust, and the shadows of monsters. 

When the food finally comes, it’s eaten in silence. Kuroo strikes up conversation about volleyball and it flows smoothly from there. He relaxes and he can also see that Sakusa looks more comfortable now, the muscles of his face relaxing and his face no longer looking expressionless but content. 

Just as he promised, Kuroo gets Ushijima’s food to-go, having it put in a container. Their talk moves away from volleyball and towards college. Sakusa wants to continue volleyball, but he also wants to get a good education, probably at Waseda and Chuo so that if anything happens to him in volleyball, he has something else which he is interested in to fall back onto.

Kuroo leaves with a new number in his phone, a filled stomach, and a plastic bag with food. He feels lighter than before. 

When he gets back home, the first thing he does after setting the food down in the kitchen is check on Ushijima. The door to his room is closed. Kuroo’s face softens, mouth curving into a soft smile when he sees Ushijima buried under his blanket, curled on his side facing Kuroo, eyes closed and mouth barely open. Kuroo closes the door behind him and goes back into the kitchen. He puts the food in the refrigerator and finds a cozy position on the couch, curling around his phone. He texts Kenma for a bit, then texts Bokuto, then Sawamura, then Oikawa. A nice circle of social activity. 

But now...he’s bored. 

_ Reaaaaaaally  _ bored. 

He’s spent almost two hours just talking. Two hours of lounging on the couch with a crick growing in his neck, right arm and pinky fingers numb. And so is his foot. So he’s really not keen on standing up at the moment and Ushijima is still asleep and now he know that the guy really needs to sleep. 

So he’s got nothing. Except...Sakusa’s words ring in his head. 

“Well it’s better than nothing” he murmurs to himself, ignoring the growing amount of fear inside of him. He closes his eyes and lies down completely flat on the couch, crossing his arms and then his legs at the ankles. 

There’s no way that what Sakusa said was true. That ignoring everything after so long, suddenly thinking about it will be bad. Well, he literally had to face his parents the day before. Nothing’s going to happen-

And then he’s twelve again, cowering in the corner of his closet, rocking back and forth and begging to whatever gods are watching him to  _ make it stop _ as panic racks through his body, the pain from his father’s kicks and punches radiating throughout his body, blood dribbling down his cut lip, fingers raw and nails cracked from scrabbling at the ground. 

Kuroo sits up again with a gasp. He swallow down the bile that rises in his throat, tongue being hit by the remnants of spice from lunch. Standing on his feet, pain springs up from his numb foot like a bunch of tiny needles perfectly poking into the ends of the nerves on his foot. Hissing in pain, he stands still for a few seconds, both out of pain and shock. 

He...did  _ not  _ expect that. For it to come rushing back so, so,  _ easily  _ when he has nothing else to distract himself. He didn’t like that. Not at all. And really...he shudders. He never wants to try that again. He squeezes his eyes shut.  _ No _ . Sakusa...he’s right. Burying all of this, it’s easy but it’s just going to increase the effect it has on him. 

“Do I really have some fucked up version of PTSD?” He says to himself, wincing when he hears himself curse. He doesn’t like cursing. He’s never really remembered why, but all of a sudden he does. And that makes him freeze. His parents. They’d only curse when beating him. And he had forgotten all about that. He remembers Bokuto, the flood of memories suddenly coming back to him and how that had left him like, a shadow of himself, having to piece himself together again. His blood runs cold. 

That could of been him. 

_ That could of been him _ . 

He bites down the sob and blinks back the tears, lowering himself back onto the couch. He buries his face in his hands and takes in a series of long, deep breaths. He bites down on his tongue and opens his eyes, hands falling away form his face so he could stare into the ground. There’s so many things wrong with his group already. Did the board of directors know already? Is that why they stuck them together in one room? What sort of game is the universe trying to play. Sawamura, strong but already having been reduced to pieces is taking care of Bokuto who just experienced the biggest plot twist in his life. Oikawa, somehow being the one who finds them first when they need someone, with the pressure of improving in volleyball and keeping the scholarship always in the back of his mind. Ushijima, with the insomnia and nightmares he has resigned himself to. 

He needs to stray strong. Both for himself and for his friends. And in order to do that, he has to remember. 

He leaves the living room for his room, slowly and methodically turning the fan on, arranging his bed. He grabs a stuffed owl from Bokuto’s bed, sliding back into his bed before drawing the sheets back over himself, clutching the owl to his chest. 

“Let’s start from the beginning” he whispers. He closes his eyes and he lets his mind tumble down that hidden corner of his mind, falling down a tumble, tearing through cobwebs and letting the memories rise once again. 

* * *

When Ushijima wakes up, he feels more well rested than he has felt in a very long time. He takes his time, laying in bed thinking about anything that that passes through his mind, letting the thought go when a different thought takes it place. He stretches his back, arms, and shoulders after sitting up, watching how the late-day sun casts a glow over the objects in his room, creating a sort of hazy shine over the succulents. 

“Oh, hey Ushijima. Had a nice nap?” Kuroo asks, stretching as he walks out of his room, hair move disheveled than usual. Ushijima raises an eyebrow. 

“Were you also asleep?” He asks. Kuroo nods, blinking after too many seconds. 

“Yeah. Gave me a lot of time to think too. By the way, I got your food. Do you want me to heat that up for you while you put something on the TV?” Ushijima blinks back his surprise. Kuroo is a nice person but he didn’t expect him to suddenly be in such a good mood. The talk with Kiyoomi must of gone well. Ushijima smiles. 

“I would like that. Thank you, Kuroo.” 

Kuroo watches Ushijima walk down the hallway, the back of his wrinkled t-shirt to him. He lets his sleepy and content mask fall, eyelids closing with the weight of a deep exhaustion. He’s doing good, he’s doing good right now. Maybe only a few more weeks and he’ll be as normal as he could ever be. 

He decides he’ll call Bokuto tonight, see how the guy is doing in Miyagi.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;-; please comment I feed off of comments nom nom I need my sustenance
> 
> Next chapter, we'll go back to Bokuto, Daichi, and Oikawa in Miyagi (hopefully)! I haven't been giving Oikawa much love so I'll try to focus more on him in the next chapter. It'll probably take place after golden week itself, so more during the end of their vacation in Miyagi. I'll probably have them go to a shrine or something, IDK. Also, some people have asked what sort of angst I want to put Oikawa through? I've decided that it's not going to be anything with the knee, since that's pretty cliche and Oikawa isn't yet the first string setter, so it'd be unrealistic to have him playing as much as he did in high school to aggravate his injury .The angst isn't going to come until a few chapters later, and it's not going to as angsty and it's going to more emotional and personal. So nothing physical or insulting or anything. 
> 
> See y'all in the next chapter!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa  
> Literally....just a bunch of Oikawa and his thoughts  
> .  
> .  
> Okay not just Oikawa, but featuring surprisingly protective and mother hen-like Oikawa. Be happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! FINALLY! Another chapter! Time flew by and I sincerely apologize for the four week wait. I’ve had a bunch of tests and then final exams appears (95 or above on all six of them hell yes), so sorry for the long wait. I’ve gotten comments about if this fic isn’t going to be continued or anything or when I’m going to update. So I came home from school and immediately started writing…which is kinda sad depending on how you look at it. But, I think my grammar has improved since I’ve had to do a lot of that in English, as well as working my pacing out since I’ve binge read a few fics so that I can get a feel for how I want this chapter to be like. I’ve decided to just finish the Miyagi arc because, well, you’ve waited long enough for the plot to hurry up. And also, I realized something strange...
> 
> This fic starts in the fictional timeline, according to my notes, April 11, 2014. This chapter, now that I’ve decided to end the Miyagi arc (no shrine visits, sorry) is _May 11_. That means only one month, ONE MONTH has passed! I’ve only covered a single MONTH’S worth of content! And this fic? ITS FREAKING 300 PAGES LONG ALREADY WHAT THE HECK AM I DOING!?!?!? Below are the exact notes for what has basically happened so far:
> 
> 11 April 2014 - (I screwed up the timeline due to bad research sorry) The Third years graduate & University Begins  
> 11 April - July 18, 2014 - First Semester  
> April 29 - May 5, 2014 - Golden Week  
> April 28 - May 11, 2014 - University mandated break  
> May 12, 2014 - Class resume
> 
> ...Exactly.
> 
> So this chapter is mainly going to be Oikawa-centric. It may be obvious but out of the five captains, Oikawa ranks fifth. But that doesn’t mean he’s my least favorite or I dislike him! I love all of the captains! I just haven’t been giving him much love as of lately. This chapter isn't as long as my usual chapter, but i had to rush write because I wanted y'all to be satisfied with a new chapter in these trying times and also give me some input on what you want to see with Oikawa that I might be able to use

It had been relaxing, a nice break from everything which had been happening at University. Although he enjoys school, especially the classes and the friends he’s made, there is still the stress of suddenly being somewhere new, having harder classes, knowing that every grade matters even more now than it did before. Oikawa hums to himself and slides his hand into his jacket pocket, switching songs without even taking his phone out. The strums from Uverworld’s bass guitarist is suddenly cut off, replaced by the hard rock tones of B’z. The nostalgia hits him hard and he can’t help the smile that traces across his face. Opening his eyes, the first thing he sees is the rushing scenery. It rushes by quickly but not too fast- he still sees what’s outside without anything becoming a blur unless it’s right up against the track. He tilts his head and then smiles. 

Riding the Shinsaken was something most of them (except for Akaashi-kun) were excited to sit in. Only the literature major and Bokuto had ever sat in it before and it feels more than cool to sit in something that can go over three hundred kilometers per hour. To his left, Akaashi-kun has his tray table down, forehead resting on it while his arms dangle, knuckles almost touching the ground, phone cradled in his hands as he idly scrolls through whatever. 

Across the middle passageway, Daichi is reading a book which Karasuno’s pretty manager had given them that morning when they all had a small get-together for lunch. It was only their friends of the same age. It was strange to see Makki and Mattsun getting along so well with samurai-kun and Mr. Refreshing. Nonetheless, it was enjoyable, especially when one of Mattsun’s meme-based flirting puns aimed at pretty manager-chan was returned with a steely and unwavering look in her eyes as if she were used to his antics regardless of the fact that they only met recently. Reminds him of Iwa-chan .

Now, back to the present! Akaashi: using the phone in a position that somehow doesn’t look unflattering on him. Check. Daichi: reading a book which he now remembers as being a manga. Check. Bo-kun: Fast asleep on Daichi’s shoulder. Check!

To be honest, Oikawa is so,  _ so  _ proud. He hasn’t had a team, a group, like this since Seijoh. Ushiwaka is more than tolerable now, Kuroo is basically his partner in crime, his Makki to his Mattsun, and Daichi and Bokuto are just adorable. Being a setter, he’s good at making observations. He’s had to learn how to think on the fly, to think up strategies and plays and who is the best option at any given time. He knows that Kuroo and Ushijima have gotten along the least out of everyone, but that’s only because their interests are so different and their schedules aren’t good at lining up. These two weeks have probably been very good for them to get closer. From what he’s learned from his  _ not mother hen-like texts Iwa-chan _ , he’s gathered that Kuroo and Ushijima are getting along splendidly. He hasn’t gotten a lot of details out of either of them, but he  _ has  _ from Bokuto, who was more than glad to basically vocalize a transcript of the conversations he’s had with his best friend. 

And Bokuto...he still clings to Daichi, but it’s less now. He mostly divided his time between the libero and Akaashi but Oikawa never felt left out or ignored at any given time. Daichi told him that the nightmares were still there but less violent and just about gone. The slightest things didn’t trigger him and the only reason he didn’t style his hair was because Daichi didn’t have enough hair gel and neither of them felt like going to the store. 

Who knew that Bokuto Koutarou and Sawamura Daichi, two of the most hard-willed people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing, are secret lazy bums?

The two weeks had passed faster than he thought they would, he admits. Spending time with Iwa-chan everyday, getting to know Akaashi-kun as more than a very smart literature major. Really, he wonders: how is it that both Bokuto and Akaashi-kun are secretly geniuses? Fukurodani is a highly reputable school, and not just for sports. He can’t help the slight downward twitch of the corner of his mouth. Why is it that success always has to be paired with the might? Are riches and status the only two things that matter in order to be successful? 

_ You’re projecting  _ he thinks. Two people. Only two people he’s close to. 

_ “Tanaka! And Yamamoto! The listings came in! _ ” Daichi had exclaimed about a week ago.

“For what?” He thinks he had replied, or something along the lines. 

“Top five aces in the country- Tanaka took Ushijima’s spot and Yamamoto stole fourth.”

So maybe his thoughts were wrong. He can’t help it! It’s probably just his past hatred for Ushiwaka...and it’s not the first time he’s thought like that. Even in history, he’d always pick apart kings and novelty for their wrong-doings and personalities. Whereas the teacher would find a hundred good things, such as emperor Meiji (he feels bad about that now), he’d always find a single, obscure bad thing and use that to pick them apart. 

Tanaka……………………...he gets emotional easily.

Yamamoto………………...who the hell is he?

“Oikawa-san,” Akaashi interrupts his thoughts. Oikawa realizes he’d really been thinking, as in he got lost in his thoughts. More time had passed than he’d thought, B’z having given away to the upbeat tunes of Higedan sometime ago. He removes his earbuds, taking out his phone, stopping the music, and neatly wrapping the chord around it. He’s not really in the mood for music anyway. 

“Yes? What is it, Kei-kun.” He silently revels in the amusement the slight twitch of the younger teen’s brow brings him.

“You seemed to be in...very deep thought.” Akaashi moves the tray table to its original resting spot, turning the knob that keeps it from falling back down. “It is important, as a writer, for me to have any ideas. I am more than glad to take ideas from a third party and integrate them into a story of mine or create a new one.” The boy crosses one leg over the other, holding his phone like how a journalist would hold a notepad. “Would you mind sharing?”

Slowly, ever so slowly and perfectly to maximize the effect, Oikawa raises an eyebrow. Akaashi slowly blinks at him before raising both of his eyebrows.  _ Well? What are you waiting for _ ? Is the question which Akaashi silently asks. Oikawa nods.  _ Well played.  _ The corner of Akaashi’s mouth quirks up.  _ Thank you,Oikawa-san _ . 

“I was just thinking about how I was a strange kid. I never liked any of the emperors, and I could never find out why.” He actually knows why, but he isn’t going to say. Akaashi tilts his head ever so slightly. 

“Anything else?”

“Koutarou-kun and Dai-chan are looking very cute~” Oikawa croons, deciding to add that because he’s not in the mood to talk about anything serious. For him, seriousness belongs on the court and in the classroom, in the face of people who are going to judge you, in font of  _ anyone  _ you may not trust and can use the smallest thing against you. Besides that, he wants to have fun. He wants to enjoy life! He wants to be himself and himself is someone who finds the joys in life, especially having just gotten the joy of getting to of his friends who are hurting to learn to lean on each other. He’s very happy that Kuroo and Ushijima don’t have their own share of problems. They must be having a blast now that they’re getting along. He can already imagine good plays on the court with the increase in trust: Kuroo and Ushijima, both clad in their black, red, and gold uniforms, Kuroo there to return the ball in case Ushijima’s spike gets blocked, and Ushijima there to quickly help Kuroo set up an impenetrable line of defense. 

“They do look rather nice like that.” Akaashi quickly plays along.  _ So all this time, I somehow ignored the fact that quiet, polite Akaashi is secretly a semi-devious little shit? _ Oikawa nods along. “Pity I’m not in any photography classes. But this could make a good reference to describe friendly moments.” Daichi looks up form his book and sends them a glare. Oikawa doesn’t need to see Akaashi’s face to know that he’s wearing the same smirk on his face, although most likely a bit smaller. 

“I heard my name, and I can already tell it’s not about anything good.” Daichi shifts in his seat, transferring his book to the other hand so that he can properly adjust Bokuto’s head on his shoulder so that he can turn to look at the two without disturbing the hitter. 

“Oh no, we were just chatting casually.” Oikawa waves him off. He doesn’t want to have an upset Daichi at the moment, no no no. 

“Oh really?” Even though the libero’s not crossing his arms, it sounds like they are. Oikawa wonders if the reason his team wouldn’t listen to him outside of the heat of a gae is because he was never able to have a tone that sounds that authoritative. But that’s what he had a vice captain for, anyway. “You only started talking five seconds ago after you removed your headphones. I have ears and eyes.”

“Okay, first of all, they’re  _ earphones _ , not headphones.”

“Second of all, talk more quietly. Don’t you have any public decency?” Daichi drawls, effectively quieting the setter by making him hyper aware that he’s the only one making any noise. No one else in this section really talked and now that it’s in his mind, it’s embarrassing and creepy. Sulking, he turns back to a normal sitting position, sinking in his seat and crossing his legs and arms. That conversation just crashed, burned, and had its ashes compacted and eaten by a pack of rats. 

* * *

  
  


“YOOO! How have you guys been! It’s been so long! Ready for school tomorrow?” Oikawa blinks once, then twice. Once the four of them had exited the station, they all grabbed a snack from a stand before heading to the buses. And now that they’ve been dropped off at the bus stop, it’s a surprise to see both Kuroo and Ushijima standing there, waiting for them….

Looking like sleep-deprived, alcoholic, drug-addicted hobos. 

He hears Bokuto squawk and it’s easy to see Daichi and Akaashi’s reactions. Daichi is momentary shocked before his face turns into one of concern. Akaashi’s doesn’t shift. At all. 

Kuroo has stubble on his jawline, giving him a sort of rugged look, his hair greasy and limp. He’s barely recognizable with his hair no longer standing up. Ushijima, Oikawa really wishes he could make fun of him, but it seems as if Daichi’s concern is contagious. His shoulders are slumped forward for once, shadows under his eyes. He’s clean shaven but there are two parallel cuts on his cheekbone. Both of them are still in their pajamas, as if they went to bed one day and suddenly became depressed enough to not do anything, sleeping included. But, still, Kuroo raises a hand and waves at them, the energy and volume of his voice contrasting greatly with his voice.  _ Ah, I see _ . 

Both of them are also holding coffee cups. If the stains on their worn shirts are anything to go by, it’s not their first and is the only thing keeping them standing. He decides to hand control of the situation over to Daichi, even though he’s sure he never really had control of it anyway so he can’t really give Daichi any control when he’s never had it. The logic makes sense. 

“What are you two doing?” Daichi scolds, right as Bokuto lets out a cry of: “Kubrooo- you look horrible! Are you dying? Please don’t die!” Then he leaps to Kuroo, enveloping him in a hug, sliding his arms below Kuroo’s. Even though he thinks Kuroo doesn’t notice, it’s obvious that that hug was a tactical movement, meant to help support Kuroo keep standing in case it was just waiting for their arrival that has kept the guy standing.

“Pardon my disrespect, but you two look like shit.” Akaashi pulls his phone out. “Neither of you are in the condition to walk back to your apartment, so I will be calling a bus. Please don’t object.” The only response is from Ushijima, since Kuroo is too busy being suffocated by his resident best friend. Ushijima’s reply is to take a sip from his coffee cup and then look like a sad, kicked puppy as he looks at it, lips no more moistened than they were before.  _ It’s empty _ . 

And he’s never felt so  _ sad _ for someone who he used to dislike so vehemently. So he takes the first step towards Ushijim before one turns into two and two turns into three. His arm slides around Ushijima’s back and almost immediately he feels a lot of weight shift over to him. He grunts under the spiker’s weight. 

“Gods, what have you guys been up to?”

“The cab will be here in two minutes,” Akaashi says. “It can probably only fit four of you….Sawamura-san, would you like to walk with me? Your dormitory building is in the path to mine.” Oikawa sees Daichi take the look at the four of them: two down, two of them about to be knocked down. Oikawa smiles at him.

“We’ll be fine, Dai-chan! Enjoy your walk!” 

Daichi looks like he’s about to protest but is stopped by Akaashi’s hand on his arm. Daichi’s mouth remains open for one more second before it’s pressed into a firm line. He nods.

“I’ll take your bags,” He says. “It’s the least I can do.” Ah- Oikawa had forgotten about that. But not he’s super aware of the zipper of the duffle digging into his back where Ushijima leans against it. After a bit of struggling and making Ushijima, who hasn’t spoken yet, stand straight, he’s able to hand his bag to Daichi who doesn’t even start to bend under the weight of his own times three weighing down on his shoulders. 

“Seriously, what have you been up to!?” Bokuto exclaims. “You smell like coffee. And Wakatoshi, I thought you were finally going to get some sleep!” Oikawa angles his head to look at Ushijima. The spiker blinks. 

“I’ve….had a lot of coffee.” He says at long last. 

“And we stayed up! For, like, two nights in a row…” Kuroo trails off, “Every other day!” Oikawa frowns. 

“What do you mean by every other day?”

“We stayed up for two nights, passed out, then repeat.” Kuroo’s grin is snarky and simply enhances Oikawa’s opinion about Kuroo looking like he’s on drugs. He looks very high. But...caffeine is a drug, something their chemistry professor loved to point out just about every class. 

“So you two are high and sleep-deprived, great.” Oikawa ignores the stares that passing people send them. “Now I have to be the responsible one, even better. The cab should be here by now- try not to pass out by then.”

“I can support myself,” Ushijima says, stepping aware from Oikawa. He can’t help the surprise that flashes through him. He knows Ushijima doesn’t mean it in a mean way, but he can’t help but feel it with his monotonous voice and darkened expression. But his shoulders are tense even though they’re slumped forward.  _ Slumped forward not out of exhaustion, but by something else.  _ A quick look at Kuroo also tells him that even though the guy has always been loose and cozy around Bokuto, he’s now tense as well. 

_ What in the gods names happened when we were gone?  _ But, he knows, that it’s none of his business. They’re not in a fight or anything. It’s probably just because of the fact that they’ve been pulling off so many all nighters, it would seem, that’s making them all jumpy. Because of how their luck has been as of lately, Oikawa’s mind quickly goes down a darker path, a list of possibilities quickly manifesting in his brain. But, he knows, he’s being paranoid. It’s not the bias of wanting them to actually be fine affecting him. No, it’s the bias of expecting something bad to happen which is affecting him, warping his views. He needs to base his assumptions off of what he knows from observing. 

The one thing which is guaranteed from his observations is that Kuroo and Ushijima need sleep. 

Kuroo allows Bokuto to support him, although he pulls out of the hug so that they walk with one of Kuroo’s arms slung over the slightly shorter teen’s shoulders. Ushijima walks not to Oikawa’s side but slightly behind him, looking so sleep deprived that Oikawa is half-tempted to knock him out right there and there for his idiocy, and also so that he can get some sleep that way, albeit forcibly. 

The cab ride is cramped and quiet, spare for Bokuto chattering to the driver. Kuroo is somehow managing to stay awake (coffee) even though his blinks keep on growing longer and longer. Ushijima remains stuff at his by the window, head nearly grazing the roof of the car. 

Of course, Daichi hasn’t made it back yet when they’re dropped off, Oikawa paying the fee. 

“First thing you two are going to do is sleep.” Oikawa demands. Kuroo chuckles. 

“I know that already.” 

They trudge to the elevator, they trudge down the hall, they trudge back to their home with the slips of plastic covered plastic with their names written in an assortments of colors. Entering….feels strange. He’s been away for so long that going from one one home to another is giving him a weird sort of nostalgic deja-vu. It’s weird to describe. It’s not really deja-vu, he just wanted to use that word in this situation. He didn’t want to leave nostalgia all alone- you know what? Forget it. Words don’t make sense. 

True to his word, Kuroo immediately heads to his room. So does Ushijima, but not before saying that it’s good to have them back. That leaves Oikawa a little less worried. 

Bokuto doesn’t notice their strange behavior. He immediately goes to the kitchen, grabs a packet of dried sushi, and rushes to the couch, rolling over the back of it instead of walking around the couch. Oikawa isn’t hungry but he joins Bokuto on the couch as the guy grabs the remote, lowers the volume, and goes straight to the streaming service. Oikawa takes his phone out. Of course, Iwa-chan has sent him a message asking if he’s returned. He responds with the correct response, a joke telling Iwa-chan to lighten up, and a cute emoji. 

_ Then  _ he notices the ring-shaped dried coffee marks on the table, condensed in two locations and overlapping two much to count. Oikawa pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Why is he suddenly the mature one? Why is he mature all of a sudden!?

“Bo-chan, put on some Doraemon,” Oikawa says with the hopes it’ll lessen his sanity. He closes his eyes and leans against the couch. He’ll clean the stains later. He also has to get ready for school...goddammit life is hectic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....after an accidental hiatus which you can blame AP and the College Board for....how did you like that? Questions? Comments? Concerns?  
> \---  
> You can contact me at:  
> tumblr: kono-rohan-da  
> email: rohan.konoda@gmail.com  
> \-----  
> Join my discord!  
> https://discord.gg/sFqmZ9G


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA a chapter with a snippet from a professor's POV for once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the first uh round of drama is over for everyone (only 100k words later! Woo hoo!), I’m going to try to lighten things up for a little bit, at least. Things are even getting stressful in real life and, of course, there’s going to be angst ever-now-and-then, I just want to try and make all of you guys smile and feel nice and happy light in these trying times, so, uh….now we’re going back to five college first years struggling with every-day student stuff….
> 
> I've been dealing with homework, osu, and binge-watching anime for the past few weeks so sorry for the slow update! I can't guarantee any solid schedule except what I've told numerous readers: I update in order of fics which I updated least recently so that I don't forget about older works and remember plotpoints and stuff

Two weeks back into school and Daichi once again remembers why he had felt so relaxed during his two weeks in Miyagi in the first place. The willpower alone to get himself to roll out of day each morning for practice at five-thirty in the morning, especially after his late-night classes, is immense. But it also makes him feel really good, to be doing so much during the day. Even though he definitely knows it’s not good to continuously have this weird sleep schedule, he does try to fit in little naps here and there when he has the time or wants to take a break from homework and such. 

It became a nice little routine for him, what he does every Tuesday and Thursday night. Walk home from the medical sciences department with one earphone in an ear, music cranked up just a smidge higher than he’s comfortable with to keep him awake. Enjoy the ten-minute trek, taking in the stars visible in the sky, sometimes partially covered by the occasional cloud, barely any cars on the street so late at night. Instead of taking the elevator, he’d take the stairs up to make himself a bit more tired in order to ensure that he falls asleep quickly and deeply. And then when he enters the apartment-dorm, there would be food in the microwave and a quiet home which means that at least everyone else has had a successful day and isn’t restless that night. 

That Thursday night, it’s strange that when he trudges into his home at one in the morning there’s something completely warped from his usual schedule, but it’s not unwelcome. 

“Oh- you’re awake?” Daichi rubs his face and stifles a yawn, dropping his backpack on the ground before kicking his shoes off. The soft sounds of conversation stops only a moment before the soft click of the lock sliding shut fills the air. As Daichi makes his way to the kitchen, the source of the chatter, his exhaustion addled brain suddenly decided to ignore the fact that it’s Bokuto and Ushijima who are awake at this time, which is certainly out of the ordinary, in favor of focusing on pressing  _ start  _ on the microwave, timer already set as usual, and watches the soft yellow light flood through the protective screen. 

Bokuto gently swings his legs from side to side, nursing a steaming mug of something. Moisture starts to fill Daichi’s mouth, reminding him just exactly of how hungry he is. 

“Oh, you’re back!” Bokuto loudly whispers. He looks like he just woke up while Ushijima, well, he doesn’t look all too well. Daichi feels his brow twitch. The tall boy has a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, shoulders uncharacteristically slumped forward, eyes showing clear shines of exhaustion while being just a bit too bright. He remembers nostalgic days when he used to be closer to his siblings and they would come to him at the dead of night when any one of them would be plagued by nightmares. 

“Yeah,” Daichi replies. He rubs his face, still able to snatch a few glances at the two. “What are you two drinking? Smells good.”

It’s not hard to realize what he’s seeing right now, for the final brushstroke to suddenly complete the painting and make  _ sense _ . So that’s how they suddenly became so close, maybe that’s why Ushijima had been in the state he was like when the three of them had returned from Miyagi? He knows basically nothing, but this is one thing he’s at least mostly sure about. 

“It’s hot chocolate!” Bokuto says, Ushijima still remaining quiet. “Wakatoshi made it- it is really good.” The microwave beeps. Daichi thinks he would have said...more. Maybe if his brain were less addled with exhaustion, so...four hours before? Time is such a random thing to think about at this time.  _ Heh _ \- that’s kind of funny. 

Pressing the button on the microwave, the door pops open and Daichi takes the warmed food out. Katsudon. Delicious. And not his version of a “normal” portion either, since he doesn’t like eating too much when he’s tired and just wants to sleep and not think about the assignments he has and the job he has to stay dedicated to. And then there’s the fact his knees still ache from the training-camp level amount of flying falls he’s done today...yesterday?

There’s also another reason Daichi isn’t that talkative at night really. Even though he’s tired, he understands that as the day progresses, as most people do, he becomes calmer and more mentally matured due to being tired. But once some invisible time threshold is passed, he becomes, well...his mom liked to compare him to having the behavior of a drunk in terms of mental filters. 

“My little siblings would sleep with me when I’d get a nightmare.” The last word is invaded with a yawn as well as being partially muffled by the food he shovels into his mouth. As usual, his eyes are half-lidded at this point, which is pretty impressive in his opinion. Good job Daichi. Anyway...is that why Ushijima chose the single room? He didn’t want to disturb anyone? That must be why. And come to think of it, the few times he’s been to the guy’s room, the bed is pushed against the wall and the bedside table is a meter away from the edge of the bed. To keep objects from being knocked off? To keep him from rolling off of one side of the bed at least? He wonders if Ushijima doesn’t sleep sometimes to keep the nightmares at bay, assuming he does have nightmares. He should ask him for tips about that then- wait, no, that’s just insensitive. 

“I can roll out the futons,” Daichi mutters, barely long enough for the other two to hear him. Ushijima’s head snaps up, confusion briefly flashing in his eyes before being replaced by shock. 

“W-wait,” Bokuto stutters, “what for?” Staring blearily at the two-tone haired spiker, the amount of scrutiny in his gaze must have had enough of something to cause Bokuto to lean back that much. His only reply is to put the last delicious piece of pork into his mouth before using his chopsticks to point. 

“You,” he points at Bokuto, “help him,” he points at Ushijima, “sleep. This has been happening a lot. I can lay a futon in either of your guys’ rooms or it can be like that one time and you can sleep in the living room.” He moves to the sink, unaware of the two sets of eyes that trace his movement to the sink. Exhaustion shaky hands rinse the bowl and chopsticks, quick swipes with the sponge cleaning all three pieces before rinsing them once more and setting them down on the drying rack, momentarily entranced by the drip of water onto the towel that lay underneath, dark color turning darker as it absorbs more and more water. 

“A sleepover?” Bokuto asks, blinking. Then he shakes his head. “Wait a wait a moment.” Bokuto meets Ushijima’s gaze. The boy looks up from his hot chocolate and rather than apprehension in his eyes, he looks hopeful. Daichi’s gaze flits between the two, blissfully unable to decode what the silent looks they passed to each other meant. As they continue to stare at each other, Daichi manages to drag the futons from the closet and drop them onto the open space between the coffee table and TV stand with so little grace that it must have been intentional. Soon after, blankets are thrown on a heap in the space between the two rolled-out things. Daichi tosses his own pillow onto the couch and lets himself fall onto the couch cushions, the slightest of noises already started to come out of the piece after only a month of use. 

“Go to sleep!” Daichi groans, crossing his arms over the back of the couch, tilting his head uncomfortable to the side to rest on his elbow. “Ushijima, you look so sleep deprived, don’t get me started now, please. We’re all tired and I’m not sleeping until both of you get in your futons.”

He doesn’t remember what happened next. He must have tucked himself under the blanket, the sheet pulled up to his chin and arms straight at his sides as usual. And the other two must have heeded his wish- well, obviously they did, because when he wakes up with a good five or so hours of sleep to Kuroo gently shaking him awake, he’s able to watch as Oikawa uses his foot to toe at Bokuto’s and Ushijima’s heads in an attempt to wake them up. 

“Are we going to have sleepovers from now on?” Oikawa sounds excited, eyes wide, and unfairly awake so early in the morning. He doesn’t even drink coffee in the mornings!

Remembering what he had learned last night, Daichi softly smiles and gets up, leaning over the coffee table to watch along with Oikawa as Bokuto groans and turns in his half-awake sleep, accidentally kicking Ushijima, waking him up, causing the latter to blearily lift his head and hit it on the overhang of the coffee table. 

* * *

“I’M SCREWED I’M SCREWED I’M SCREWED!” Oikawa exclaims. Daichi turns to face him, raising an eyebrow as he adjusts his backpack. After a very successful round of practice and heightened excitement after the news of a practice match in a few days, the two of them are walking to another joyful class: calculus. 

“Hmm?” Daichi hums. “Why?” The fear painted across Oikawa’s face is enough to make even Daichi start to doubt himself. What’s going on? Why is the setter so scared all of a sudden? “Oikawa?”

“I,” Oikawa swallows, face rapidly paling. In fact, Daichi can’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulders out of fear that the taller teen would topple over anytime. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

“No!” Oikawa exclaims, squirming out of Daichi’s hold. “I-I-” his muscles tense, fingers curling into fists as if to brace himself for what he’s about to say. “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DERIVE!”

Somewhere to their right, a bird flies out of the tree. Unknown to both of them, it manages to glide all the way to the life sciences department before bouncing off the glass of one of the walls of one of the botany majors’ few greenhouses before flying away once again, albeit a bit crookedly. 

One blink. Two blinks. Daichi takes in a deep breath before pinching the bridge of his knows out of exasperation.

“We have a test today.”

“...yes.”

“And we’ve had lessons for over two weeks now.”

“...yes.”

“And you’ve been doing the notes and homework, haven’t you?”

“...yes.”

He can feel his eyebrow muscle start to twitch. Forcing himself to release a sigh, the tension that had built up from Oikawa’s sudden outburst drifts away. He shakes his head and humorlessly smiles at the other, causing the brunette to take a step back.

“D-Daichan? You have a scary look on your face like Iwa-chan-”

“You’ll be fine.” He says this with all teeth. “You just need to remember the power rule, chain rule, and have the formatting for the trigonometric equations memorized.”

Oikawa sighs. “I know I know- and of course you wouldn’t just shorten it to trig-but I can’t help but feel a bit stress, do you understand?” He waves his arms around him. “I forgot to study last night! And Tsuki-sensei is amazing and all,” Daichi nods along to this, his mind finally able to throw a mental image at him of the correct Tsukishima instead of a bizarre short vision of Tsukishima Kei snarking down at him and teaching math in the most sarcastic and salty way possible, “but even he doesn’t give extra credit!”

“And you have a perfect grade in calculus- who knows how with how dumb you are,” Daichi teases. That’s all it takes, apparently, to get Oikawa standing tall and excited again. 

“You’re riiiiight,” he drawls. “I  _ do  _ have a perfect grade! I got this!”

“You do.” Daichi claps him on the back. Oikawa winces and lets out a whine of pain. “But good luck anyway. It took me a little bit to actually have the concept really click in my head, but you understand it- you’ll probably finish a lot faster than me and also get a perfect score.”

True to what Daichi had predicted, Oikawa does get a perfect score, somehow maintaining his perfect grade thanks to two pages of paper scrawled with dark, erased kanji and an answer per question harshly circled to draw attention away from the mess of work surrounding it. Daichi’s paper is neater and there are some simple mistakes, but he manages to get away with an eighty-seven. 

* * *

Meanwhile, in quantum physics, Bokuto Koutarou and two other of his classmates, an auburn-haired boy with his long hair pulled into a high ponytail and a black-haired girl with rimless glasses, squabble over a section of one of the many weel-able chalkboards. Professor Ivanov has her arms crossed, stoically patrolling the room, eyeing the work on the boards of other groups. 

She pauses in front of the some-what legible chicken-scratch of work on the board, the one thing (besides handwriting) that separates it from the other boards being that there’s no chalk dust on the ground from being erased, the eraser unused, and the color of the chalkboard remaining a dark grey instead of the light grey from layered erase attempts. 

“Bokuto, Inihara, Dow,” she says after clicking her tongue. “You three decided to deal with quarks?” All three of them flinch, quickly turning around. Ivanov smiles at the three. Back in Russia, the students would have had much better posture than all three of them when facing her and their work would be more organized. But, she admits, they wouldn’t have had the same strange passion or want to learn out of interest (a good percentage of her past students in Russia would have wanted to learn just so that they could show off their intelligence, boast about the difficult class they’re taking, or only take it so they could get a money-raining job). 

She wonders what’s wrong with Japanese students. She was under the expression that those who were referred to as “jocks” in the horrid American version of English lingo wouldn’t have much interest in the finer, difficult classes, yet the best group in the class (who she stands behind at this moment) is composed of a first-year volleyball prodigy, a national-level rugby player from England, and a shy, quiet girl who Ivanov only discovered did Judo after incidentally peeking into a Judo meet. 

“U-u-uh yes, m’aam!” Inihara nearly squeaks, face turning almost as red as Dow’s hair. She feels tempted to smile but she has a reputation to uphold. Instead, she adjusts her glasses and turns her gaze to Bokuto then Dow, neither of them flinching again after the initial scare. 

“Your work looks good,” she addresses the three of them at once. “I would suggest you continue this topic for your term paper.” Then she turns and heads to the next chalkboard, already knowing that the work will look like it came straight out of an online website. Remorse flashes through her- she knows she shouldn’t judge groups and people so quickly (Bokuto and Dow, for example), but she couldn’t help it. After seeing the “sports trio’s ” (as she called them in her head) work, she couldn’t help but feel that everyone else will disappoint her a little. There’s also guilt because she wants to stay and observe what else the three will come up with in such a short time, see their thought process in action and listen to their discussions. Alas, that would unnerve the three greatly and she wants her best students to shine. 

When class ends, she’s quick to pull out her phone and open up the calendar app as she walks to the faculty lounge, knowing that her lunch is probably delivered already and waiting on a table with her name written on a receipt. It only takes some quick taps between the university website and her calendar until she has the days for the next rugby game, judo open-watch practice, and volleyball practice match reserved. 

“Oh, Professor Ivanov!” A young, gentle voice exclaims once Ivanov enters the room, placing her campus ID card back into her pocket. Once again, she successfully holds back a smile because if there’s one staff member on this campus she is sure everyone likes, including herself, it’s Tsukishima. 

“Tsukishima,” she acknowledges. “How was that rowdy class of yours?” She easily finds her plastic bag of food on the counter and sits at the same table as Tsukishima, the room starting to fill up as numerous adults took their lunch break. She crosses one leg over the other, carefully taking the carry-out container out of the bag. The smell of stir-fried noodles hits her nose less than a second after opening the lid. 

“Oh, they were amazing as usual!” Tsukishima beams. “I handed out a test today and my students did superbly as they always do~.”

“And that Oikawa- were you finally able to award him something other than a hundred?”

“ _ Iye _ ”, Tsukishima smiles, drawing out the  _ ee  _ sound. “But I  _ was  _ able to smuggle some more pictures of my little brother from Sawamura if you want to see them,” he waggles his eyebrows, and Ivanov, not for the first time, mentally rolls her eyes at how ridiculous the man is and rethinks how they became acquainted in the first place.

“Why not,” she sighs after a few seconds of silence she forced. “Also, do you have any students with the family name Dow or Inihara?”

“Well, yeah- why do you ask? What did they do?”

“Oh, they did nothing bad. I will tell you after you show me the photos of your little brother.”

* * *

Oikawa sneezes into his phone, the force causing him to shift on the grass he sits on with the rest of his friends. 

“BAKAKAWA!” Iwaizumi nearly screeches through the phone. “YOU’RE GETTING SICK ALREADY!?!?”

“Iwa- NO! I swear! I-m fine!”


End file.
